Page 20 of In This Iron Ground
“Threedead monkeys and a skunk!” Koko shouted, tilting her head back in laughter that fell all around them. Even Lallo was giggling, pressing his grin to Damien’s side.
“Well, I think we’ve got that one covered,” Damien teased, throwing Hakan a look, who rolled his eyes despite the smile even he had been infected with.
When Damien turned his gaze towards the horizon, the world seemed endless.
The memory of that day remained inside Damien, a soft, glowing thing, fragmented apart from the evening that followed.
By the time he got to the McKenzies’ he was exhausted in the best way possible, feeling like the fresh air had cleansed him right through.
Mrs. McKenzie didn’t agree.
Damien didn’t have his own keys to the house, and the small talk Cameron and Mrs. McKenzie engaged in as he was dropped off sounded awkward even to him, although it never lasted long. As soon as the front door closed, however, the smile slipped off her face as she inspected Damien’s dirty clothes with a critical eye.
“And what have you been up to, then?” She sounded more curious than anything else.
“We went hiking,” Damien said enthusiastically as they walked towards the living room. “It’s a Salgado tradition! And they let me in on it! Every Spring Equinox, that’s when—”
“What about your homework?” Mrs. McKenzie interrupted him.
“What?” Damien blinked, feeling himself tense up.
“Homework. If you’ve been off traipsing in the hills all day, when did you do your homework?” Mrs. McKenzie asked. Damien remained silent, looking at his shoes. “Well?” Mrs. McKenzie asked more sharply this time. Damien winced.
“We, I mean, I didn’t do any today, but—”
“Damien,” Mrs. McKenzie said with a soft, disappointed sigh that immediately put Damien on edge.
“I didn’t do the homework that was set today, but we don’t have to give that in tomorrow. I’ve already done the homework for tomorrow, I swear, we—”
“I’ve given you a lot of leeway, Damien. I let you go to the Salgados’ even though they invite you on school nights, don’t I?” she asked. Fear was a quick, electric bolt through Damien.
“Yes, but—”
“And I gave you one condition. Do your homework. Didn’t I?”
“Yes, but—”
“And look at you! You’re covered in dirt!”
“Yeah, but, Mrs. McKenzie please, I swear I’ve done all my homework for tomorrow. I’ll catch up for what I haven’t done today, I swear—”
“You’ll do it today. Those are the rules. Now, sit down,” Mrs. McKenzie said, pointing at the kitchen table.
Damien stood there, frozen. He felt dizzy with the turn the day had taken. Had it only been a few hours ago when he had been in the sunshine with Hakan and the twins and Koko? That felt like a mere glimpse into an alternate universe, constructed to show him what he could have, if he were different. If he were better.
“Damien,” Mrs. McKenzie said, a warning now as Damien stood there. For a moment, Damien imagined himself sayingno. Telling her to fuck off, standing up for himself, running away. But he knew that Mrs. McKenzie would revoke her permission to see the Salgados. She’d tell them what he was really like, what he deserved. They wouldn’t be able to do anything about it even if they wanted to, which was doubtful.
Damien dragged his feet across the floor and sat.
The ropes, when they wound around him like a spell, felt more malicious and constraining than ever.
Mrs. McKenzie sat down next to him when she was done. Despite it being much later than seemed normal to start homework, she pulled his homework diary out and eyed it critically before taking the necessary materials out. Damien said nothing, a white, blank space.
“Damien,” Mrs. McKenzie said, but he was too far away. He felt sick. He felt wrong. There was thick sludge coating the inside of his throat and lungs. The signals between his brain and his arms had been cut. He had no control over his body.
“Damien!” Mrs. McKenzie snapped and, suddenly, there was a hand around his face, squeezing his cheeks as he was wrenched forwards and to the side so that he was facing her. He stared into her eyes, a soulless blue that couldn’t be compared to the sky that had sheltered him earlier that day.
“You will follow the rules of this house. When I say you sit, you sit. When I say you stay, you stay. When I say you don’t, you don’t. When I say you do, you do. Do I make myself clear?” she asked, each sentence a quick and precise cut. Damien remained silent. His hands were gripping the arms of the chair, but it still felt like he was slipping away. “Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?”
