Free Girl in the Dark by Marion Pauw Page A

time she’d yell at me. “Don’t be such a sucker, Ray. Can’t you see that your friends are using you? They make the trouble, and you get stuck with the blame. Or they’ll needle you until you snap and then they can laugh their heads off. You’re like a bad TV show. A runaway train. You’re always just steamrolling ahead, you don’t seem to have any brakes, no inner warning system, nothing. You do such dumb things that to this day I can’t figure out what the hell is wrong with you.”
    Thinking of my mother yelling at me made me have bad memories. Some people down the street had a dog. It was a mean little pest that growled at you and would go for your ankles if you got within its reach. They let that dog roam free and sometimes it even came into our backyard.
    I was scared of it. My friends said, “Bet you can’t hit that dog with this rock, Ray. Wanna bet? Bet on your momma?”
    â€œWhat about her?” I asked.
    â€œWe’re going to pull your momma’s pants down so she’ll be standing in the middle of the street with a naked cootie. Unless you hit that dog.”
    I was very sure that I didn’t want my friends to see my mother naked. I took the rock from them. It was round and smooth; it felt good in my hand.
    â€œThrow it! Throw it!” they shrieked in my ear. There were at least seven kids crowding me. I couldn’t think clearly.
    The dog was trotting along a grassy patch about fifteen yards from where we were standing. It was sniffing at a Popsicle wrapper on the ground, still on its leash.
    â€œThrow! Throw it!”
    I raised my arm. The rock fit perfectly in my hand. I bent my wrist back slightly.
    â€œThrow! Throw!”
    I hurled the rock forward as if my hand wasn’t a hand but a catapult. It was my best throw ever. The rock sailed through the air and hit the dog right between the eyes.
    The little dog didn’t make a sound. It took a few wobbly steps and then its legs gave way. There was a moment of silence.
    â€œRun!” yelled one of my buddies. “Ray killed Bonnie!”
    Within seconds they’d all scattered, and I was alone with the dog. I didn’t know what to do. The sun was shining and the dog looked like it could jump up and nip at my ankles any moment, but five minutes later it was still lying in the grass, not moving, next to the Popsicle wrapper. It wasn’t such a big deal. I decided to go home and play with my Lego Technic.
    That night the neighbor came to our door. I was already in bed, but the yelling woke me up. Then I heard my mother’s footsteps on the stairs. She flung open the door to my bedroom and screeched, “Is it true you threw a rock at that dog’s head?”
    â€œYes, Mom.”
    She stormed up to my bed and started shaking me. “Have you lost your goddamn mind? How the hell did you get it in yourmoronic head to do such a thing? Not a day goes by that you don’t manage to do s omething incredibly stupid. What am I going to do with you?” She collapsed on the edge of my bed and began to cry. I started patting her hair; I didn’t know what else to do. She had very soft hair, the color of the sand on the North Sea Beach, my mom.
    But she slapped my hand away and stomped out of the room. I listened to her angry footsteps on the stairs and then heard her talking to the neighbor. I stared at the poster of the universe pinned to the wall above my bed and recited, “Mercury is closest to the sun, then Venus, then Earth,” but I knew something was terribly wrong.
    Two days later my mom told me that I’d be living at the Mason Home, that it would be good for me. They would be able to give me the help I needed.
    â€œBut I don’t want to be away from you, Mom.”
    â€œYou’ll thank me for this someday. Trust me.” Since she said it with a smile, I assumed that she was right.
    But after all the time that had passed, I still