Lies We Bury(65)

“Look away, baby!”

Then it’s quiet again.

Twin whimpers and Mama Rosemary goes “shhhhh.”

There’s a noise in the doorway, and I lower the covers. It’s Mama. “It’s okay, honey. We have to go.”

I run into the room and see Twin with tears on her face but she looks normal. Empty like when we’re watching television. Like Mama Rosemary when she’s staring at the wall.

Mama Rosemary presses my hand into hers. The first room is a mess. The mattress for the Murphy is almost off. One of the man’s shoes is on and the other is in the sink and our toy crate is fallen over and puzzle pieces are everywhere. Mama’s nightgown is torn on the arm and her skin is all scratched. “Mama Rosemary, you okay?”

She makes a noise in her throat. “Yes, baby.” She’s shaking.

I look at the man and see his chest go up and down. There’s red marks on his neck. “He’s asleep?” I whisper.

His arms and legs are tied together like a piggy and he’s flat on his tummy. Not a good way to sleep. I step closer to see and Mama stops me with a hand on my back. The rope we’ve been making during arts and crafts is wrapped around his hands and feet all zigzag.

“Not asleep,” she says. “How’s your sister?”

“I think she’s up,” I say. “What happened?”

Twin only picks at her shirt with her fingers.

Mama doesn’t answer me. She goes into the second room and her voice is low again. Sweet Lily says something in her baby voice that means she’s tired and not feeling good. The bed squeaks and Mama and Sweet Lily come into the first room. Mama wears a backpack I saw her putting our favorite items in today. Sweet Lily takes Mama’s hand but Mama snatches it back like she got burned. Red is on her hand. Blood.

“Mama, look!” Twin shouts and I spin and look at the man. But he’s still sleeping. I follow Twin’s pointing finger to the middle of the rope where it’s come loose around his feet. Instead of keeping his legs up like a piggy, his feet start to float to the floor.

“He’s coming loose.” Twin’s mouth shakes and she hugs herself to Mama’s leg like she’s Sweet Lily’s age again.

Mama Rosemary smooths her hair. “I know, honey. We’re not going to have as much time as we thought.”

“What do you mean?” I ask. Now my mouth is shaky, too. “Not enough time? What do you mean he’s coming loose?”

“Hush. We need to get going now.”

But Twin pulls away and runs back into the bed room doorway. Her eyes get all big and round and she breathes heavy. “We can’t. He’ll come get us and be meaner than before. He’ll come get us!” Tears wet her face.

I look from Mama Rosemary’s bloody hand to Twin’s shaking shoulders then to Sweet Lily trying not to put any weight on her bad foot. Splotches on Sweet Lily’s cheeks make her paler than usual and her long hair is messed up and knotted.

The rope dangles from the man’s feet too loose. Just like when Petey the Penguin captured Bruno the Polar Bear.

“I think I know a way,” I say in my naptime voice.

Mama’s eyes are soft. Then they get round, too. Then they get skinny and angry. “What way is that exactly?”

I nod. “I can make more rope. Make sure he stays tied up longer and make sure he doesn’t go after you.”

“No.”

“Mama—”

“We’re leaving together.” She looks around all fast. Her eyes get red but there’s no tears. No wetness like my own. Her chin shakes but her face seems hard like when one of us refuses the vitamins she gets for us. She always says, Baby, do you know what I had to do to get those? And we always shake our heads because we don’t. She won’t tell us.

“Mama, Sweet Lily can’t run like all of us! She needs help. And that will mean none of us can run away.”

Sweet Lily begins to cry, too, and only Twin isn’t wiping her cheeks. Instead she’s staring at me like she doesn’t recognize me.

Mama swoops down and lifts Sweet Lily onto her side—her hip—and looks past me. With her good hand she hoists Sweet Lily up higher but Sweet Lily slips slowly slowly slipping down. Mama hoists her up again onto her hip but Sweet Lily keeps sliding with only Mama’s one good hand to hold her in place. She wraps her bad hand around Sweet Lily’s leg and blood smears on her little-baby thigh. Mama’s face scrunches then she releases Sweet Lily so she can cradle her hand.

I nod again and again. “You said we’ll have to run the first few blocks and that the man could be close behind so we had to run fast. We practiced during exercise hour. We practiced our bracelet-and rope-making during arts and crafts to make sure he could be tied up for a while. We practiced geography so we’d know the streets outside and how to get to the big road for help. If someone doesn’t stay . . . make sure the others get away safe . . . you said I make rope as good as you, yes?”

Mama Rosemary goes quiet. “We do still have leftover sheet.”

“I make rope as good as you, right? You said it.”

“I did say that.” Her voice is soft. “So you’d make extra rope from the leftover strips and tie it to the rope already around his feet? You don’t even know how to make a knot.”