Page 10 of Run
Papa comes back toward me, batting my fists with his. “Come on, girl. Hit me! Come on!”
He’s knocking my fists away and swatting his open palms against the sides of my head, making it jerk this way and that. It’s starting to hurt, and I don’t like it. I want it to stop.
“What’s wrong, Arlene? You scared?” Papa lands a punch to my shoulder, causing me to stumble to the side—and right into his fist. I fall back onto my butt and pain lances through my lip as I hold a hand up to it and I begin to taste blood.
Papa stands in front of me with his hands on his hips, his chest heaving. “What? You want me to take it easy on you? You want me to let those bullies pick on you? Huh? Well, I ain’t letting no little bitches disgrace this household. So, get your ass back up and show me you know how to fight before I knock some sense into you!”
Before I even know what I’m doing, I scramble off the floor and run toward Papa. Since I’m coming from below and have momentum—and he's surprised—when I plunge into him he goes toppling over, and I fall right on top of him. I start rearing my arms back and flinging my fists at his face.
There’s a grunt, and then he pushes me off. I’m smiling as Papa and I sit next to each other on the cold, soiled concrete and catch our breath. He glances over with a look of satisfaction on his face, and that, in turn, makes me proud.
Chuckling, he uses a knuckle to wipe spit from the corner of his mouth. “That, right there, is what I’m talking about, kid.” He leans over toward the bench and pulls himself up to his knees, then his feet. “You attack them when they aren’t expecting it, and you never stop. You got it?”
I scramble up and reply with, “Yes, sir!”
I’m still smiling when Papa says, his back turned to me, “Oh, one more thing …”
Papa swings around and connects first his left fist, then his right to my face, causing it to jerk one way, then the other, before I go flying backward, stumbling over a pair of boots and landing on the hard floor, the back of my head bouncing off the concrete with a thud. The edges of my vision go blurry as pain erupts everywhere.
“Never let your guard down,” Papa says, stepping over me and exiting the garage, pulling the door down and leaving me inside.
I give into the darkness with one thought on my mind: no one has ever cared enough to teach me how to fight.
***
I feel the heat on my face and pry one eye open, only to slam it shut again. A ray of sunlight is streaming in through the window in the garage and cutting right across me as I roll over and sit up on the concrete floor. It’s completely light out, so I wonder what time it is.
I scramble to a standing position, but immediately have to reach out to the workbench to steady myself. Head pounding, hip throbbing, I don’t try the overhead garage door because I know the electronic opener is broken and I don’t have enough energy to lift it, so I head toward the regular door and crack it open before catching a glimpse of my reflection in the window. My right eye is swollen—no wonder it won’t open—and my lip is split, with dried blood smeared along my chin. Slowly licking my tongue along my bottom lip, I wince when it touches the cut. And then I do it again. And again.
Something comes into focus and I see Ethan headed straight toward me. Turning away just as he reaches the door, I hear him call inside. “Hello?”
The door slowly swings open. “Oh! Hey, Ari. I knew I saw the door crack open. Whatcha doing in here so early?”
I open my mouth to speak, but it’s dry and I have to clear it first. “Ethan. Hey,” I say sheepishly. “I was just, um, looking for the machine thing to put air in my bike tires, but I don’t think Papa has one.”
“An air compressor? We’ve got one. Here, let me grab your bike for you. I’ll take it over to our garage. Fonz and I were goingto go for a ride this morning. Think you can come with us, or will Axel get pissed?”
I pivot as he comes around the side and grabs the bicycle and starts pulling it toward him. “Um, I can’t go today. Papa needs my help with something.”
Ethan pulls the bike closer toward the front of the garage, then turns and pushes the overhead door open, letting the daylight spill in. I feel it warm my back as Ethan drags the bike outside. “Yeah, he didn’t look so happy last night. I came around looking for you later, but I didn’t see you in the living room.”
It’s silent, and I wonder what he’s doing behind me. “Ari, are those the same clothes you wore … Wait, did you sleep in here last night?”
Ethan must be able to see the back of my head moving side to side as I shake it, and comes around the side of me, but I pivot again. “Well, when I looked in the window it was pretty late. Where were you?”
“Nowhere! God, it’s not like you care, anyway,” I snap at him.
“Of course I care, Ari! We’re friends.” He places a hand on my shoulder, and I shrug it off.
“I thought you were hanging out withCatherine,” I say, biting out her name.
“What? I just ran into her there, is all. She’s friends with Fonz, and I met her the other day. Are you mad at me or something?”
“No.”
“Ari … Red? Why won’t you look at me?”
I don’t answer. My lip quivers but I hold back the tears.Don’t you cry … Don’t you dare cry.
