Page 5 of Wed By the Lumberjack

Time comes to a standstill as she stares up at me petrified.

“I’m sorry!” she cries, putting her arms out in front of her as if to ward me off. Her wrists are bruised too. “I fell asleep. I was going to leave before nine. I swear.”

I always came to the treehouse at nine during the summer break. If Dixie knows that, that means she’s been watching me for a long time.

I drop the bat and remain rooted to the spot so she knows I’m not a threat.

“Why are you sleeping in here Dixie?” I ask gently, but I have a pretty good idea.

Dixie’s father, Douglas, is the town’s drunk, and rumors of his erratic temper have circled Moonshine Creek for as long as I can remember.

“H-how do you know my name?”

How could I not? Dixie is the most beautiful girl in the school. A tiny thing with big chocolate brown eyes and long hair to match. Those beautiful eyes are swollen now and her cheeks are tear-streaked.

“We go to the same school.” I shrug. “It’s hard not to know names when there are only fifty students.”

“I don’t know yours.”

I swallow my embarrassment and run a hand through my hair. “I’m Heath... but what are you doing here?”

“I don’t know. It was raining and empty and I just...”

But it hadn’t rained today. Did she mean Sunday night? It poured when I jogged all the way back home.

“Have you been sleeping here since Sunday night?”

She nods.

“Why?”

“I just...I ran.” As she tucks a lock behind her hair, I see another knot on her temple and every muscle in my body tenses. What sort of a father, no coward, would beat up his own kid? A tiny little thing the size of a peanut?

“Why were you running? Who did this to you?” I ask quietly, sinking down so that I’m at eye level with her. I already know of course, or rather, I’ve already assumed, but I want her to confirm it.

“What does it matter? It’s over with.”

“It’s not over with; your face is swollen and it will be for days.”

I lean forward, trying to get a better look but she sinks into the bean bags, desperate to get away from me.

I put my hands up and back off but my blood’s boiling as images of a gap-toothed and balding Douglas stumbling around the market flash before my eyes.

“You said you ran away at night? That must mean you live around here, right?”

And if she lives around here, it’s even more obvious to me that she’s running away from someone in her household. Like a parent. Like Douglas.

“Yeah.”

“Do you have any siblings?” I doubted it. I would’ve known given the tiny class sizes, but the thought of someone else being trapped with Douglas inside that hell hole of a house nagged at me.

“No, it’s just me and my dad–”

My fists tighten but Dixie looks nervous, realizing her mistake.

So she is running away from her father.

“But he’s not home. He never is.”

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