Red - Jack Ketchum [50]
He shrugged and smiled again, the picture of amiable old dad. “She likes to borrow my sweats. So?”
“Does Peggy have a boyfriend, do you know?”
She saw Peg’s head dip down to her chest as though waiting for the axe. She hated doing this to the poor girl. But she was doing it for the poor girl.
“No,” Cleek said. “And I’d know it if she did. Why?”
“I believe…I believe that Peg is pregnant, Mr. Cleek.”
“Pregnant.”
It came out flat, emotionless. She’d have expected much more. She’d have expected something.
“I am not!” Peg said.
And that was not emotionless. It was tense as hell and there were tears beginning to form behind the words. But Cleek seemed to ignore his daughter. Cleek’s focus was directly on her.
“What makes you think my daughter is pregnant, Miss Raton?”
She noted that they were no longer Chris and Genevieve, they were back on formal terms. It was actually a relief.
“She’s showing, Mr. Cleek. Not very much yet but that won’t last much longer.”
“Any of your colleagues concur with this opinion, Miss Raton?”
“What? I wouldn’t know. I haven’t discussed it with them. I thought it best to come directly to you and your wife.”
“And you did well to do so.”
He leaned in close and she knew what that smell was now. He smelled like old rotting meat. There were girls in class whose personal hygiene was well south of what it should have been and when they got their period they smelled the same way. Old spoiled meet.
And a meanness had crept into his voice that she didn’t like.
“I thought you teachers were supposed to listen,” he said. “You don’t listen too well, Miss Raton. I told you that Peggy didn’t have a boyfriend and that I’d know it if she did, right? Didn’t I?”
“Yes, but…”
“You accusing Brian here?”
He motioned toward his son. The boy was grinning. What’s going on here? she thought. What have I stepped into?
“He’s just a boy, Miss Raton.”
“No, of course not…”
“Dad,” Peg was tugging on his arm. He pulled away.
“You accusing me?”
“No, I…”
Get out of here, she thought. There’s something seriously wrong with this guy. She stood up. So did he.
“You saying that? Are you?”
She held her ground. Short of sprinting for the door there was nothing else she could do. Besides, this guy was beginning to piss her off, too.
“I said nothing of the sort, Mr. Cleek.”
“In my own home. You accuse me.”
He was right in her face now — way into her space — and his voice had gone eerily soft.
“Right here in my own home,” he said.
“I did not. I never said…”
But I didn’t have to, did I? she thought. You said it for me. You fucked your own daughter, you bastard, you sick piece of shit. You fucked her and got her pregnant and now I‘ve stuck it to you, haven‘t I? You miserable sack of…
She never saw it coming.
~ * ~
But Peg did.
Peg saw her father strike a woman for the second time that night.
Open-handed this time but with no less power and right across the side of her head. So that one moment Miss Raton was standing there in front of her and the next she was on the floor, her head striking the antique pie safe so hard it rattled the plates inside. She saw her teacher’s eyelids flutter once and then close.
“Jesus, daddy! What did you…?”
“Shut up, Peggy. This is all your own damn fault, you little bitch. Get out of here! Go out to the barn. Go get me some rope!”
“Rope? What are you going to do with rope?”
“Go! Now!”
“No!”
“I’ll go,” said her brother.
She heard the front door slam. Her father was glaring at her. Her father wanted to hit her too.
“Get out of my sight,” he said. “You brought this on. You and that sweet little cunt of yours. Go help your mother.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
Darlin’ hid.
Darlin’ — Darleen, her name was Darleen — was hiding. She hid behind her sister’s bed because her sister’s bed was safe and heard loud voices and things going thump and she could feel bees buzzing up through the floorboards, she could feel bears coming out from the dark of the woods, there were black crows at the windows wanting to get in.
What she could