Free Leap by M.R. Joseph

begrudgingly he sits once I pat the bed again.
    I adjust the way I sit. I tuck my legs underneath me and Mack mimics my actions. We sit toe to toe. Just like we did as kids.
    Words sometimes aren’t meant to be said. Actions take the place of things we are supposed to say and what we are supposed to feel. Consequences are outcomes of actions; you can’t put yourself in front of them. This is where Mack and I have our understanding.
    My hand reaches up and, like I have been doing for the past ten years or so, I rub his scar.
    I’m sorry and he knows it. I’m so sorry for not being careful and not thinking before I speak. As he closes his eyes, the heaviness of his head floats into my touch and he knows I’m sorry.

    “Dear God, how am I going to cover up these marks on my neck, Mack? They’re purple.”
    Mack comes up behind me in the bathroom mirror as I look at the bruises Mark kindly left on my neck. He looks at them with me as I turn my head from side to side, inspecting.
    “They’re not as bad as you think. Your hair is long enough to cover up your neck for a few days.”
    I look away, frustrated, and puff out air and sit on the lid of the toilet.
    “No, Mack, they’re bad. My parents are going to know, especially Mae. She’ll catch on that I’m not wearing my hair in a ponytail. You know her, Mack.”
    He smiles and tilts his head to the side, motioning that he agrees with me.
    “Yeah, she does follow your every move, but really, Rinny, I think you’ll be okay. Wear a baseball cap and have your hair hang down. Tell her it’s a new look.” I look at him like he can’t be serious. My mother is like some sort of detective. She should have become one instead of staying home to raise me.
    I rest my head in my hands. A sick feeling comes over me with the thoughts of how the marks got there in the first place. I feel some bile rise up and, in my weakened state, I manage to launch myself up from the lid and lift it, emptying the contents of the few popsicles I consumed over the last few hours. I feel Mack’s hand on my back and he circles his hand there. I instantly feel more relaxed. I peer up through my watered eyes and see Mack sitting on the edge of the tub. His hand is still on my back.
    “Mack, how am I going to cover this up?”
    “I told you, Rinny. Wear a baseball cap and your hair down.”
    I shake my head along with my trembling body. “No, Mack. How I am going to cover up what happened last night? So many people saw. Everyone knows what he did and what you did to him. It’s going to get back to my parents. You know that, Mack. People talk on this island.” Mack removes his hand from my back. I watch him grab a washcloth and wet it in the sink. I feel Mack kneel beside me as I hang onto the porcelain throne. I feel his hand go to the back of my neck, and then the washcloth hits my forehead. He tilts me back and I rest my butt on my heels. I close my eyes and welcome the coolness of the cloth.
    Mack sighs. “You’re not going to have to cover anything up. We’re in this together. I don’t care that I beat the shit out of him. He probably didn’t report me to the cops because there were so many witnesses, and the chicken shit is scared. I even doubt he went to the hospital after I beat him.”
    I take his hand away from my face and look at him in disbelief.
    “Hospital? Mack, what did you do to him?” I’m afraid of the answer but also curious.
    “Rinny, he tried to rape you. You think he looked like the Prom King when I got through with him? I felt his nose break as soon as I punched it, and I had to have broken a few ribs of his. Maybe a stitch or two in other places. Who knows? I carried you out of there, grabbed a cab and came straight here.”
    He’s so casual about it, and I want to throw up again. I squeeze my eyes tightly and slam down the lid to the toilet.
    “Damn it, Mack. You think beating the shit out of him was going to make everything better? I guarantee it made it worse.