Blue Belle - Andrew Vachss [48]
"I grabbed on to her. Hugged her tight. Don't make me go, Sissy, I begged her. She pushed me away. Looked at me like she was memorizing me. Then she slapped me across the face. Hard.
"Why'd you slap me, Sissy? I asked her. Why'd you slap me? You never slapped me in the face in all my life."
Belle took a deep breath, looking straight at me in the dark.
"I slapped you so you'll never forget my name, baby. Don't you ever call me Sissy again, not even in your dreams.
"I was standing there, crying. Sissy rubbed my face where she'd slapped me. So tender and sweet. She kissed me to take away the pain, like she used to do when I was little.
"We heard my father's car pull in. Sissy was calm. I'm not just your sister, Belle. I'm not Sissy. I'm your mother.
"I couldn't move. Go! Sissy said. Go, little girl. I'm your mother. I kept you safe. Now run!
"I ran into the swamp, but I didn't go far. I hid down in a grove, so scared I couldn't make my legs work. I heard my father yell something at Sissy. Then I heard this explosion; flames shot up. The boat. You stay right there, bitch! I heard my father yell. Then I heard his gator–gun blast off. Once. Twice. He yelled my name. Screamed it out into the night. I ran through that swamp. My mother wasn't lying there dead by the boat—she was inside me—running with me—keeping me strong. She's always inside me."
Belle grabbed me, holding me tight, her arms locked around my back.
Crying the truth.
49
I DON'T know how long we were like that. Belle loosened her hold. She drew back from me, reaching out a hand to touch my face.
"Does it hurt?"
"No."
"I didn't mean to hurt you. I just wanted you to remember my name," she whispered.
"I do."
"Will you get in bed with me, honey? Lie down with me?"
"Sure."
She propped herself on one elbow, reached across my chest for the cigarettes. "I have to tell you the rest," she said.
"You don't…"
"Yes. Yes, I do. You still don't know what I want from you."
I fired a match for her and watched the smoke drift out her pug nose, not pushing her.
"How old do you think I am?" she asked.
"Twenty, twenty–two?"
"I'm almost twenty–nine years old," she said. "It was fourteen years ago when my mother saved me. I went running. Even when I was a young girl, they only looked at my chest, not my face. There's always young folks running in this country. I found them—they found me. I made some rules for myself, promises to my mother. I never turned a trick, but I let my tits hang over plenty of bars. I could always make men buy drinks. I never let a man beat me—there's some who wanted to try—big girl like me makes them feel small, I guess. I drove cars too—I'm real good at it. Getaway cars sometimes. I ran 'shine over the mountains in Kentucky. Drove stolen cars from Chicago to Vegas. I thought I was going to be a showgirl there. I've got the size and the body for it, but my face…"
"You have a beautiful face, Belle."
"No, I don't. But I know it's the truth to you. Just listen to me, don't talk."
I nodded, rubbing her shoulder.
"I saved my money. I read a lot of books, teaching myself. I'm an incest child. You know what that means? I have my father's blood and my sister's too. That's why my face is so…like it is. My eyes close together and all. I have bad blood, Burke. Bad blood. Only the Lord knows what's gone on in my family before I was born. Or what happened to Sissy's mother. My grandmother, I guess. I saw a doctor. At New York University. I told him the truth. He did some tests, but he couldn't tell me anything without testing my father too. I'm all messed up inside. I'm missing a rib here"—she pressed my hand under her heart—"and one leg's a bit shorter than the other. The doctor wouldn't tell me that much, but I made him say the truth."
She smoked in the dark while I waited.
"I can never have a child. Never have a baby of my own, you understand? My father's bloodline has to stop with me."
She felt the question.
"He's down to Raiford State Prison. In that drawer over there, I have all the papers. I was busted once with a station wagon