Buckman scoffed. “That’s not something I’m going to need to learn, Elton. Not when it comes to dishing out justice to perverts messing with kids.”
They disappeared inside the Parrish house and I watched the ambulance quietly pull away.
I sat with my face in my hands feeling helpless. Indy was with her mama and my mama inside, talking to a policewoman. I wanted to go to her and put my arms around her but my mama said I had to wait until the policewoman had finished talking with her.
It seemed like hours before they finished. Finally my mama came and got me and led me down to Indy’s bedroom.
“Five minutes and then we need to go home and give Indy and her mama some privacy,” Mama said. I nodded and opened Indy’s bedroom door. She was curled up in her bed. The lamp on her bedside table was turned on and I could see the tear stains on her cheek as she stared straight into the lamplight.
“Indy?”
She didn’t look up, so I walked into the room and sat down on the bed.
“Are you okay? I asked, uncertain of what to say. “Did he hurt you?”
She didn’t answer and her eyes remained on the light.
I didn’t know what to do. Or say. So, I did the one thing I knew comforted her.
“Do you want me to lie down with you?”
She looked at me, and although she didn’t move, her eyes said yes. So, I climbed in beside her and wrapped my arms around her. She snuggled into me and I felt her relax. After a while, she finally spoke.
“He didn’t hurt me,” she murmured.
“Are you sure? You can tell me if he did.”
She shook her head. “He didn’t hurt me. But he tried.”
I swallowed deeply not wanting to think about him hurting her because it made my stomach hurt and the hair stand up on the back of my neck. “What happened?” I asked.
For a while, she didn’t answer me, and I wondered if she had fallen asleep. Finally, she spoke.
“He thought I was sleeping, but I heard him open my bedroom door. I pretended to be asleep and prayed he would go away. But he walked in and closed the door behind him. He came to my bed and put his hands over my mouth and then . . .”
I secured my arms tighter around her. I hoped her Uncle Calvin was hurting bad in the back of the ambulance. I hoped the road to the hospital was bumpy and that he felt every single pothole.
“. . . he told me not to say anything. That I would get in trouble if mama heard us. That she would tell my daddy and he would be mad at me. I knew what he was doing was wrong, but at the same time, all I could think about was how his fingers smelled like tobacco smoke and the empty beer bottles your daddy keeps in the garage.” Indy’s breath left her in a big exhale. “He told me I was his special girl, that special girls got special gifts from their uncles. He kept his hand over my mouth. But his other hand slid up my leg to my panties. That was when I bit him, hard, and when he let me go I jumped out of bed and kicked him right in his privates. That was when my mama walked in.”
She twisted her head to look at me.
“Thank you for telling my mama, Cade.” She hugged my arm tightly.
I felt sick. I didn’t know what her uncle would have done to her if her mama hadn’t rushed in.
“I’ll always be here for you, Indy.” I pressed my lips to her hair and settled in behind her. “That’s my job.”
Indy tangled her fingers in mine and exhaled softly. “I don’t want us to ever fight again.”
“We won’t. We’ll stay best friends forever.”
“Promise?” she asked.
I nodded and closed my eyes. “We’ll be best friends for the rest of our lives.”
INDY
Now
The next morning, I rose early and went downstairs for coffee. To my surprise, my mom was up, sitting on the couch looking through old photo albums. I thought about going to her and giving her a hug, but it seemed so alien to me so I poured us a coffee, instead.
“Morning, baby,” she said when I joined her.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
She glanced up, her black-rimmed glasses perched on the edge of her nose, and she smiled. “I’ll get there.” She accepted the cup of coffee from me and then patted the space next to her. “Come sit with me for a bit.”
When I settled next to her, she passed me one of the photo albums.
“I have to find a photo of your father to put on the casket,” she said. She sipped her coffee as her eyes passed over the page of the open album on her lap. “If you find a good one, holler.”