Patsy wrinkled her nose. “How do you stand working in such a smelly place?”
“It has its perks.” Hollis nibbled on her ear, tickling. “Go on, Patsy, have yourself another swill of the latest I pinched off the distillery. I don’t share my best with just anybody. You know that, don’t you, doll baby?”
“Hollis. You gotta swear to tote me safely home,” she reminded, all wide-eyed innocently, patting her hair. She knew she shouldn’t tease him like that, but it was kinda fun, making him promise like that, knowing a senior boy wanted her in that way.
“I swear it, doll baby, swear on my dear ma.”
Patsy took a sip, felt the tingling from his fingers and had herself a bigger swallow. Hollis whispered into her ear, and more easy promises spilled as the flask emptied.
By the time they’d finished the flask, along with nearly another half bottle of bourbon that Hollis had pulled out from underneath the seat, Patsy found herself out of the Mercury, lying on the ground, pinned beneath Hollis under the old elm, her mind muddled, cares slipping more.
She’d gone in and out of a terrible, sweet dream, afraid but all alive and heated in a way new to her. Patsy hated his rough touches, but wanted more of this brother who wanted her, surrendering a purr for all of him, coming around long enough to want none. Soon a deep sharp pain lashed at her, had her crying “no.”
Hollis covered her mouth with his hand, while she squirmed and tried to buck, rear up, and fight.
A few more pumps and he rolled off her with one last braying groan—his bathed boots scented from the angels’ share, sooted, and pointing his victory to a blinding-blue sky.
Nearly dead from the drink, close to passing out, Patsy lay numb, listening to his snoozing, nursing inside herself, eyes fixed to the swaying tree branches, the sunlight rippling through singing leaves, waning.
Something nearby stirred, and she turned her head to the noise. Patsy was sure she caught a movement. Something, someone. She squeezed her watery eyes shut and popped them back open. She could’ve sworn it was someone sneaking—maybe even ol’ Joetta leaning against the tree, motioning to her. Though Patsy had never in her life seen her, she could feel a presence. Something she knew was off.
Patsy blinked and bolted upright. Sitting still, she soaked up her surroundings. Branches and clusters of leaves sent shadows across the trunk, spilling a skirt of light tricks across the dirt bed that Hollis had made for her. Satisfied nothing was really there after all, her vision blurring, her head fuzzed, she lay back to rest her eyes a bit.
But then the sky began spinning. Off-kilter, her stomach clenched and rolled. Wobbly, Patsy pushed herself up, knee-walked around the elm to a spot of velvet moss, and threw up until her stomach lining burned and there was nothing else left to heave.
Moaning, she crawled away, sickened and scared. Falling back onto the grass, Patsy closed her eyes. “You okay, Patsy? Doll baby . . .” Hollis called out, foggy, reaching for her hand, patting before drifting back off.
She let herself surrender to a turbulent slumber. By the time Patsy pulled herself out of the hazy sleep, Hollis was straddling her again. Catching sight of her ripped nylons and pink panties strewn to the side, she pushed him off, jumped up, crying, shouting, “You . . .” She caught her breath. “You son of a bitch.” She straightened down her skirt that he had rolled up to her stomach. “You no-good low-down son of a bitch!”
Quickly, Hollis pulled on his trousers and buttoned his shirt.
She wriggled into her pink polka-dotted underwear Mama’d bought her girls at the fancy department store in Lexington, then to her sobering horror stripped back out of them when she saw the telltale sign of her now lost-forever virginity.
“You.” She stabbed a shaky finger at him, threw down the panties. “You got me drunk. You violated me!”
“I—I thought you wanted to be together. Listen, Patsy, I’ve always had a thing for you—”
“You’re a pig.”
Embarrassment crawled into his eyes, and then just as quick, boiling anger took hold. Hollis swore she’d asked for it, begged even. “Shit. You wanted it same as me.” He rubbed his crotch for the truth. “I tried to stop, but you wanted it too bad. Couldn’t disappoint you, being all sad over junior boy like that—”
Patsy shook her head, screaming, threatening to tell Sheriff Henry. “Liar! Filthy liar. You raped me, Hollis Henry! And your daddy’s gonna hear—”
“But you wanted it!”
“You’ll go to jail—”
Hollis cursed and smacked her, a fear creeping into his eyes. “You sonofabitch. You brought me here to . . . to do this.” Patsy cursed back, swung and punched his broad shoulders, slapped at his head.
He staggered, snatched the belt from his britches and smacked her arm with its buckle.
She cried out. “Mama . . . my mama’s going to have your tail for messing with me. Messing with an underage girl—”
“I gave you just what you wanted, slut. You’re whining now? Hell, you weren’t whining when I gave it to you.”
“You took—”
“You liked it.” Spit blew out of his mouth.
“I hate you, Hollis Henry.”
Hollis looked like he’d been hit. “I gave you something you liked. You know what, bitch, I can easily give you something you don’t—” Hollis drew back and snapped the leather across her shoulder once, then struck her arm, drawing a trickle of blood. He tried again, just barely missing her jaw.
Patsy raised her arms over her face and stumbled back against the tree, sniveling.
“Just try to tell. I swear I’ll make you sorry, Patsy. Swear,” he hissed in her face. “You tell a soul, you’ll find yourself living in a Hell worse than my daddy’s jail.”
“You . . . you . . . sonofawhore! You vile—”
Hollis grabbed her arm, dug his fingers in, squeezing until he had her on her knees, cowering. “Nobody, ain’t nobody going to believe a common tramp over the sheriff’s son. The ol’ moonshiner’s spit.” He raised the belt again. “’Specially when I have my own brother to vouch for me. You hearing me, Patsy?” He knocked his leg against her head and shook his belt.
Patsy gasped. Danny would never have her if he knew.
“ ’Cause our Danny boy’s going to hear a lot if you so much as—”
“You sorry—”
“You!”—he jerked on her—“You ain’t gonna tell nobody about the disgraceful way you came on to me, dropped those drawers real quick for me, Patsy.” He towered over her, dug his fingers even deeper into her bone, bruising, threatening until she cried out, broke down sobbing.
Hollis straightened his tall, thick frame, then nudged a foot at her soiled panties and shredded nylons. “You best clean yourself up and hide your whoring—bury them things in the dirt there.” He kicked a fallen branch for her to use, grabbed the nearly empty whiskey bottle, and sauntered off to the Mercury to wait.
Weeping, Patsy began digging a hole to bury her undergarments beside the tree, silently promising never to mention the indiscretion to another living soul.
*
Now, here she found herself, again, pinned against the elm with the wrong brother on her prom night. How did she let this all happen?
“Give us a chance. We can start now while the boy takes his nap.” Hollis hitched a thumb over to sleeping Danny in the backseat, pressing in with another rough kiss to Patsy’s lips while holding down her batting arm.
CHAPTER 7
Flannery
1972
Flannery pulled her Chevy off the road next to a guardrail and rested her forehead on the wheel, pinning her runaway thoughts and wanting for more time.
She thought about turning around, turning tail and leaving Glass Ferry like the day she had turned her back long ago.