Page 44 - The Woven Tale Press Vol. IV #1
P. 44

35
”Why is Dad digging holes?”
eyes.” Jack was the one in the family with brown eyes.
(Continued from page 26)
“He’s digging for the truth of himself, Lizzie child.”
Mother’s blue eyes went black. Slowly, she reached for the cane, hidden beside the range. Her demons moved along the wall behind her. I knew what was coming and held out my hand. As the cane walloped the air I hid behind my eyes.
Mother never saw the shadows, but still they made her jump.
“You’re not one of us,” she used to hiss at me. “You’re one of them.” The night she moved Dad’s things she came into the kitchen and caught me talking to Grandma.
I expected the first whop on my hand. The stinging pain on the backs of my legs surprised me and I opened my eyes to see the cane fall again. She hit me over and over again. I thought she had finished when she dropped her cane. I heard someone crying close by, and I tasted the sea in my mouth, but most terrible of all, I felt a warm wetness run down my legs.
“Who are you talking to?” she demanded.
“Grandma,” I said.
“Don’t lie to me,” she screamed.
She wasn’t finished, and now she used her hands. I whispered the prayer Granddad taught me, May Angels watch me all this night and keep me in their blessed sight, may Angels watch me... When Mother slapped my face, the room slipped sideways. I fell on the floor and lost my place in my prayer.
“Grandma says to leave me alone or else.”
“Or else what?” she asked in a low frightening voice.
“Or else she’ll tell Dad that two people with blue eyes cannot make a baby with brown
Granddad had told me that the very worst thing a person could do to another human being was to hit them on the face with their


































































































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