We Begin at the End(85)

He met her eye. “An outlaw.”

“And what do outlaws do?”

“They don’t take any crap.”

“No one pushes us around. No one laughs at us. I stand up for you. Our blood is the same.”

Fear in his eyes.

“You head into class now.”

She gave him a gentle push and he turned and walked into the building, reluctant, nervous.

She stood, dropped her bag and stared at Mary Lou. And then she walked toward her. Girls moved, Emma and Kelly and Alison Myers, they parted for her because they’d heard the stories.

“You want to tell me what’s so funny?”

Boys came over and fanned out around them.

Mary Lou did not back off, just carried that same smirk. “You stink of piss.”

“What?”

“Your bed. It was you last night. I saw my mother washing the sheet from your bed. You pissed yourself like some retard.”

Duchess heard the bell ring.

No one moved.

“I did.”

There were murmurs, laughter and a couple of shouts she couldn’t make out.

“You admit it?” Mary Lou said.

“Sure.”

“See. I told you it wasn’t bullshit,” she said to Kelly. Then she turned and the group began to move.

“But you know why I did it?”

They stopped, heads turned.

Mary Lou watched her, uncertain of what was coming but tensing up, ready.

“So your father wouldn’t touch me.”

Stone silence.

“Liar,” Mary Lou said.

Kelly and Emma inched away.

“You fucking liar.” She screamed then ran at Duchess.

Mary Lou was used to shoving matches, maybe some hair pulling, nothing more than that. She did not count on meeting an outlaw in the schoolyard.

Duchess dropped her with one savage punch.

Mary Lou crumpled, her tooth in the grass, the other kids hollering as blood spilled from her mouth.

Duchess stood still and calm, watching her prey, kind of hoping she’d get up and they’d go again.

When it was done, when the principal and two teachers ran out and took a look at Mary Lou, beaten bloody, tooth missing, the new girl standing over her and smiling, they hauled her inside and called the Prices and Shelly.

Duchess sat alone waiting, wishing Hal would walk down the hallway and straighten out her mess. Out the window she watched Montana sky and wondered about Walk and the Cape, what kind of sky they saw that morning when everything changed once again.

Mrs. Price arrived crying, her husband’s arm around her.

“No more, we’re not doing this anymore,” she said between breaths, glaring at Duchess like she wanted the girl dead.

Mr. Price glared too, so Duchess flipped him off.

Shelly got there and hugged her. Duchess stood still and did not hug her back.

The adults convened in the principal’s office, gold plaque on a door so heavy Duchess could make out nothing more than the odd raised voice. Mrs. Price going off, out of my house, not one more night, safety of my own children.

Duchess was called in once the Prices stepped out, looking away as they passed her, like she did not live beneath their roof.

Shelly asked her about what she said, about Mr. Price. She told the truth. She said it to shut Mary Lou up. Shelly backed her as best she could, the losing horse but still she threw support her way.

The principal was aghast, grave allegations, no place for violence in their school, she would not be welcome back.

Duchess flipped him off for good measure.

“You alright?” Shelly said, as they walked from the school.

“I’m alive.” Duchess did not like leaving Robin there.

She climbed into Shelly’s car and sat silent as they drove to the Price house.

Mrs. Price stood in their kitchen, on guard. Mr. Price had run Mary Lou to the emergency room to be checked over and see about her tooth. Threats were made, legal and otherwise. Duchess was ushered up to the attic to pack their belongings. It did not take long. Her case had been ready since the day they arrived.

She left the house without saying another word to Mrs. Price, who stood on the step, dabbing at her eyes.

Shelly drove in silence, back to the office, where she worked the phone madly while Duchess sat on an old wooden chair and watched hours pass by.

At three Shelly headed out and left Duchess under the watch of a couple of older ladies who smiled her way every ten minutes.

Shelly returned with Robin. He’d been crying.

At five they got a place. Shelly spoke without emotion, tired and beaten by a hundred other files, other cases, other lives just as lost.

“It’s a group home,” she said.





36


THE HOUSE WAS GRAND, GREEK revival, Doric columns so tall Duchess felt small beside them.

An acre of tended grass ran to quaking aspen bold green against spring sky. Duchess sat on a bench with Robin while planes wrote tracks into the sky. Shelly was inside, meeting with a large black lady named Claudette, and she seemed to run whatever it was that needed running. Youth Guidance Home.

Robin was quiet, resigned as they arrived at the house but nervous enough to keep hold of his sister’s hand.

“I’m sorry.” She said it with such sadness in her voice that he leaned his head on her shoulder for a moment.