In the cemetery. I was hugging Joey, kind of crying. Yeah, my dad hit me. It sounded so awful just said like that. And he kicked me and punched me and strapped me. And I couldn't take it anymore but now what? Would Joey bring me back to him? Would he bring me to a hospital or something? A police station? Children's Aid? I didn't want to go to any of those places.
He was talking to Sean over my shoulder and I saw Sean get in the back seat of the car, and Joey put his arm around me and sort of led me to his car. I was still crying, sort of hitching sobbing crying and I felt stupid crying in front of Sean. He must think I'm such a loser. So I tried to stop, tried to pull it together. Whatever would happen I wouldn't cry. I was kind of scared to ask Joey what he was going to do, where he was going to bring me.
He started the car and pulled away from the cemetery and I leaned my head against the window, watching the trees and the houses kind of slip by.
"Joey," I said, and I could see Sean in the rearview mirror sitting still and quiet in the back seat.
"Yeah?"
"You're not gonna, um, bring me back home, are you?"
He looked at me, his face all filled with this pity and concern that made me cringe. God, I felt stupid.
"No, no. You can stay with me tonight," he said, his voice gentle. I nodded, blinked back tears again. Ughh, what a fucking mess I was, God. He dropped Sean off, and I hadn't ever seen his house before. I could hardly see it now in the dark, but it looked about the size of my father's garage.
"Uh, bye, Craig," Sean said, not really looking at me. I looked down, so embarrassed. I mumbled bye to him and watched him run up to his little house, all run down with shingles missing and the wooden steps broken off in places, and the yard just dirt.
I leaned my head on the cool glass again, and it felt good against my face. Joey drove, staring right at the road, both hands on the wheel. We got to his house and I got out of the car, felt so tired all of a sudden, this day had been too much. Too much by far.
Inside I saw Emma, and she looked at me with cautious concern and a little fear. I looked away from her, wiped the tears from my cheeks. I sat on the couch, just looked down, and listened to them talk about me like I wasn't even there.
"So he was there," Emma stated, her voice quiet.
"Yeah, but…I don't want to leave him. Think your mom can come pick you up?"
"Yeah, sure. I'll call her. Think he's okay?"
"I don't know. Maybe. Maybe I should bring him to a hospital,"
"I don't know, Joey. He's been through a lot today. He'll probably be better off just staying here,"
I silently thanked Emma as Joey nodded and she made her phone call to her mom. I did not want to go to a hospital, people touching me and asking me questions. No. No way. And I was fine. I was in pain a little, still, from those kicks but I didn't need a hospital.
Emma stood at the door waiting for her mom and Joey was in the kitchen. I didn't feel like moving from this spot. I heard the beep of Emma's mom's car, and she called out goodbye to Joey.
"Thanks, Emma," he said, and she nodded at him.
"Bye, Craig," she said softly, and I looked up at her.
"Bye," I said, and watched her pull on the door knob and go.
Something mindless was on T.V. and I could barely follow it, everything they did one moment seemed unconnected to the next moment. I didn't care. I couldn't concentrate. I felt like I was gonna be in trouble, my dad would be pissed I wasn't home. He'd find me. He would. Joey's house wasn't such a reach.
Joey came over with a cup of tea and two Tylenols. He handed them to me with a little glass of water.
"Take those," he said, and I did. I wasn't up for questioning things. All I could do was blindly follow directions. I kept worrying about my dad finding me, getting so mad at me, his face all twisted with anger, the way he said my name, "Craig!"
"We should talk a little," Joey said, and I glanced at him. Sighed. I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to do anything.
"No, Joey, I'm kinda tired…"
"Look, I know you don't want to talk about this and I don't blame you, but in order for me to help you I have to know what's going on. How bad is it?"
I looked at him, blinked slow. This was a secret. It had been a secret for so long. I couldn't just tell him. I couldn't. So instead I lifted up my shirt so he could see the bruises, and I looked away but I heard him gasp.
"Oh, Craig. Oh my God,"
"Okay?" I said, "don't make me go back there,"
He looked like he was mad at my dad and shocked and sorry for me all at once, and he shook his head.
"No. You don't have to go back. Of course not,"