Climbing out of his bed, Scotty ran down the long and cold hall, into his sister's room. She was already awake, and in her pale pink nightdress, she looked fragile and scared.
"Shhh, be quiet Scotty," she needlessly whispered. Scotty just mutely nodded. He was too scared to speak, but he knew that Randi needed to be bossy to hide her fear. Normally, Scotty would argue back, but he felt comfort in it now. He climbed into bed with her.
The sound of footsteps grew closer.
Randi scrambled out of bed, and quietly went to the door and locked it. She pushed a chair against the door. The squeaking of the chair's wheels made both Scotty wince, and Randi stopped. The footsteps still came, closer and closer. Quickly, she wedged the chair against the doorknob like they saw on TV last night, before she raced back to the bed and crawled in to huddle with Scotty.
In the darkened silence they lay in bed, staring at the shadows the moon cast. The bookcase that held books on fairy tales and ballerina figurines looked menacing. Even the toy chest looked dark and uninviting. Outside the window, he could see the pale moon and clouds easily drifted by. Not even his Superman pajamas gave him comfort. Maybe I'll wake up soon, Scotty thought, but even he knew that this wasn't a nightmare.
The footsteps grew closer and they held their breath. The footsteps didn't pause but moved passed Randi's door, to down the hall, where Scotty's room was. Scotty whimpered.
"Scot-ty," the low husky voice sang out, with the faint knocking on Scotty's door. "You've been a bad bad boy…" the voice continued to sing off key as if drunk.
Randi hugged Scotty close to her and put her hand over his mouth, to keep him from whimpering.
"Shhh," she whispered, "don't worry, I won't let him get you." Scotty tried to nod, but she held on to him too tightly for him to move his head. Scotty snuggled closer to her, and wrapped his arms around her. He tried not to see the look of terror in her twelve-year-old eyes. He trusted her. Randi would keep him away. He had to believe it. If he didn't, he would start crying again, and Randi told him that he couldn’t cry. Couldn’t make any noise, or else he would find them.
The door to Scotty's room creaked open. A tear slipped from Scotty's eyes, but he didn't allow himself to make any sounds. He was in his room. He had run into Randi's room just in time. He couldn’t let him get him again. He closed his eyes tightly, as if he could block the memory from his mind. She noticed, and gently patted his hair, and took his still pudgy six-year-old hand in hers. She kissed him on the forehead, and rocked back and forth soundlessly.
"Scot-ty," the low, husky voice sang out, "are you hiding from me? Bad, bad Scotty…"
Randi stopped rocking and held still. Scotty wanted to cry, but he knew that he couldn't make any noise now. Scotty wondered what he did wrong. Since he had first came to hurt him that first night, he was extra careful to do everything just right. He ate all his peas during dinner, and said good night to everyone, and even said his prayers with more fervor then he ever had.
"Randi," Scotty whispered, "I didn't mean to be bad. I'm sorry."
Randi looked at him first with impatience, then with sadness. "You did nothing wrong. Shhh, now. Stay quiet."
But Scotty heard the tremor in her voice and he misinterpreted. "I'm sorry Randi. Maybe if I told him I'm sorry…"
"No!" Randi said, too loudly. The footsteps stopped, and started toward Randi's door. "Oh god, oh god, oh god," Randi started to whimper. Scotty was too amazed by what Randi was saying to notice the footsteps.
"I thought that you didn’t believe in God?" Scotty asked.
She ignored him, and dragged him out of bed. She opened up the closet and took Scotty and pushed him in.
"You have to be quiet Scotty. No matter what happens you have to be quiet. Promise me Scotty. Promise me!"
Scotty nodded as she pushed him into a corner and piled toys on top of him.
"Remember, you have to stay quiet!" she said, as she closed the door. Scotty bit down on the ear of the stuffed bunny that she put on top of him. The feel of the soft fur of the animals relaxed him. The toys would protect me, he though. How smart of Randi to hide me where the toys can protect me.
"Open up Scot-ty," sang out the voice. It was right in front of Randi's door. Scotty heard her whimper and then her crawling back into the bed and pulling the blanket over her. "You can't hide from me…come out Scot-ty".
The doorknob jangled, since it was locked. Scotty sighed with relief. He couldn't get in. He was ready to crawl out of the closet, when there was a sudden bang.
Scotty sunk deeper into his corner and pulled the bunny over his face, and sucked on the ear. The banging on the door got louder, and Scotty wondered where were mommy and daddy. He heard Randi whimpering softly in her bed, and he hugged the bunny tighter.
Suddenly, there was a loud crash, as the door jarred loose, and the chair fell to the floor.
"Bad, bad Scotty," the raspy voice said. "Bad Scotty for running away. Bad Scotty needs to be punished."
"You leave him alone!" screamed Randi, leaping from her bed, "just stay away or else I'll tell mommy!"
"Looks like little Miranda has been naughty too," the voice said, and he easily stepped over the fallen chair and into the room. Scotty moved closer to the slats in the closet door. Although he was terrified, he had to see Randi. Randi would protect him.
"I've not been naughty! You have!" she yelled, with her hands on her hips. Go tell him, Scotty thought, finding comfort that Randi was not so scared that she couldn't be bossy.
"Bad Miranda needs to be punished too. Where is Scot-ty?" Scotty cringed at the sing song quality in his voice. "I won't hurt you, if you tell me where Scotty is."
"I'm going to tell mommy!" Randi screamed and made a dash for the door. He easily caught her, and threw her on the floor. She started to cry.
"Shut up you little whore! Your mother is too hopped up to care right now. So just shut up! Where is Scotty?" Through her tears, she glared at him, as he shook her. The off key singing was gone, and he was hoarsely yelling at her. "Where is he, Miranda?"
"I don't know!"
"Where is he?" and he slapped her. She started to cry louder now.
"Shut up! Shut up! Where is he?" She just cried harder and started to beat him with her small fists. "Oh little Miranda, you can't hurt me," he said, almost chuckling. Easily, he held her thin wrists in his fist, and with the other hand, held her against him, to stop her struggling. Scotty couldn’t see much, except for his back. He wanted to cry, but didn’t dare make a sound. Randi told him that he had to be perfectly quiet.
"Shhh, little Miranda," he said. Petrified, she didn't move, and stared at him wide eyed. "You're too old for me now. No need to be jealous…where is Scotty?" She started struggling again, and bit the arm that was holding her down.
"BITCH!" he screamed in pain, and hit her so hard her head whipped back and hit the toy chest. Scotty could see her head loll back and forth like her rag dolls. He held his breath, as he saw Randi's eyes flutter then weakly open. She let out a piecing scream.
"What?" said a deep but drowsy voice from down the hall. It was daddy! Daddy was here! "What's going on?"
"Nothing Tom," he called out, as he put his hand over Randi's mouth to keep her from screaming again. "I think I just startled little Miranda. I was just checking on the kids." Tom muttered something in reply, but he was already going back to sleep. Scotty wanted to scream for his father to come help Randi. To come help him! But he didn't dare make a sound, as he watched Randi's pale pink nightgown pushed up, then his dark shadow blocking Scotty from seeing anything else.
Scotty sunk back into the corner and he put his fat pudgy hands over his ears, trying to block out the sounds of muffled crying and the low moaning and quick breathing.
No, no, no, no, no, he thought. This isn't happening. He knew that he should try to help Randi, but he was too scared to move. He tried thinking of happy things. Randi always told him to think of happy things when he was scared, but he couldn't focus on the memory of playing in the park, nor of having ice cream for dessert. He just kept seeing the look of terror in Randi's soft brown eyes, pleading with him not to make a sound.
In that moment, Scotty knew that he was a coward. Although he was only six, he knew that he was a coward for letting his sister take the punishment that was meant for him. I am bad, he thought, I should be punished. I am a bad bad boy, who let Randi get hurt. His young soul filled with horror and hatred of himself. I should have yelled for Daddy, he berated himself, I should have saved Randi! But he couldn't move, and he hated himself all the more. Hot tears coursed down his face, but he didn't make a sound. I am a yellow-bellied coward.
He looked down at his Superman pajamas and in frustration tried to take it off. But the cramped space of the closet and darkened anger of his mind only succeeded in tangling himself up. I can't even take off my own pajamas, he thought, and for some reason, that made him cry all the harder. He bit down on his fist to keep from making any sounds, and he hated his self-pity even more.
There was a loud moan, and Scotty moved to the closet door and peered through the slats. Randi's long braids were scattered, and she was lying motionless on the carpeted floor, her eyes staring vacantly at a corner in the ceiling. Scotty saw him standing over Randi. He couldn't see his face.
"Brave little Miranda. You're such a good big sister," he said, his voice even hoarser, "Brave, good little Miranda. Scotty has been bad to let this happen. Bad bad Scot-ty."
Randi turned her head to stare at him, her eyes tearless. She didn't say a word, nor made any other movement.
"Remember, brave, little Miranda," he crooned, staring right at the closet with a smile. Scotty instinctively shrunk back away from the door. "I'm going to be here all week. How long can you hid bad little Scot-ty?" With that, he walked out of the room, and shut the door, with the now broken lock, behind him.
Silently, Scotty, surprised at how wet the bunny was, crawled out of the closet.
"Randi?" he said timidly, afraid that she could see his cowardice, and hating himself for being afraid. "I'm sorry Randi."
"Shhh," she murmured, sitting up, and pulling her nightgown down. "Shhh."
"I'm really sorry Randi. I should have done something."
"There's nothing you can do. There's nothing we can do."
"But Daddy…"
"He can't help. Mommy can't help either. They don't want to see. They need him, more then they need us. Shhh now."
She looked at Scotty's twisted up pajamas, and the chewed up ear of her bunny, and she laughed a silent, empty laugh. "What did you do?"
Scotty opened his mouth, but the words he needed to explain the epiphany in the closet escaped him. Randi just shook her head and looked at him with an amused smile on her swollen lips, but the rest of her face was tired and sad.
Scotty reached out, and pushed the hair from her face. Her face was pale, and he could already see the purpling on her face from where she was struck. Scotty sat down beside her and stared out the window at the moon.
The silence of the house no longer scared him, and the dark shadows that loomed over him, seemed almost cartoonish. Scotty felt shame at Randi's tangled hair, and bruised face.
He and Randi stared out the window, watching the sinking moon, and the grayish-pink sky of an impending dawn. Another day was here, and with it, would come another night.