Free Circle Nine by Anne Heltzel Page A

here.
    Abby’s a thinking being. She can do whatever the hell she wants.
    But she doesn’t. She does whatever
you
want. She may as well be your pet, Sam. She’s terrified of —
    The rest of Amanda’s sentence is muffled by a sob.
    You used me, too, Sam.
    I never asked you to do anything you hadn’t done already.
    My hand sketches the heart-shaped face and long, curled lashes of the woman. My back hurts where it is pressed up against the stone wall. There’s a long pause.
    Then,
She loves me,
he whispers to her.
I don’t force her to be here.
    She doesn’t know what love is. And you don’t treat her like you love her.
    I press the pencil hard on the paper, and it cracks. But not before it draws one tiny jewel in each ear. A mouth bow-shaped and meant for talking to me. Arms strong and meant for hugging me. Amanda’s voice is getting shrill outside.
    I can’t take it, Sammy! I’m leaving. And if you want me to keep my mouth shut, you’ll let me take her with me.
    Shut up, Amanda.
    You’re not going to stop me, Sam.
    He laughs scornfully.
What are you going to do, huh? You going to be a hero? Save your precious little Abby from big bad Sam? You’re a
junkie;
Amanda, and how about the truckers in the big city? Were you too skinny? Too drugged up? Business not booming like you thought? What was it, anyway? Why’d the big plan fail, A.? Why’d you bother crawling back here? I’d love to see what you plan to do for Abby, run a tag-team operation? Make her just like you, so you can feel better about yourself? You going to be the hero here? You go right ahead.
    I’m going to tell her, Sam. I can’t keep it in any longer. I’m going to tell her what you did. I’m going to take her away from you. I’ll take her out West with me to California. It’s warm there. We’ll have a life. We’ll get away from you.
    I never asked you to come back!
he shouts.
We were finished! I was done with you; I found her, everything was fine. She
needs
me. You’re meddling — that’s all. You’re just fucking it all up. You came back and thought you’d mess with my head and things would be like always, and it’s driving you crazy that I don’t need you anymore.
    I hear an angry howl and a tussle. I really don’t like that they are fighting. My hand goes right on drawing. Then there are loud noises and the sound of cries, and now Sam and Amanda are in the room. She grabs my wrist.
    Wait, Amanda. I’m drawing. See?
I show her my picture.
    Isn’t it nice, honey,
she says.
Now, come on with me.
Then she’s pulling me up off my feet, and I can only think that she’s incredibly strong for someone so skinny.
    Amanda, stop,
I say.
Isn’t this one better than the others?
    Yes.
She grits her teeth hard.
Now, put it down. You’re coming with me right now.
She rips my tablet from my hands and the paper tears, dividing the face in half. It lands on the floor at our feet. I scream long and loud. She’s ripped my mother’s face in half. I scream and scream and then Sam is between us.
    Leave her alone,
he says over my shrieking. He tries to pull Amanda away but she’s too strong even for him. I’m afraid of her now, afraid she’ll take me away from him.
    Sammy, help,
I say.
    Don’t look at him, Abby! Look at me!
she shouts. Something inside me is waking up. Something about this isn’t right. I stand still and let them fight over my parts. Maybe they’ll divide me in two like the picture, and they won’t have anything to argue about anymore.
    Get OFF her!
He screams this in her face and then slaps her, and she flies back and sobs on the ground, and I sob standing up. Then she’s running, running away from this hell, and he’s chasing her outside through the trees and instead of thinking of anything, I pick up my tablet and carefully line up the paper where it’s ripped and finish my drawing, and when I’m done, I hang it up on the wall next to the others. There is a striking similarity. My mother in this picture looks like