Hellraiser and its characters are the property of Clive Barker, whom I love and adore.
Kirsty Meets her Uncle, a Monkey Named Hanuman, and a Strange Man with Needles
Kirsty Cotton had a Nana.
Nana had many, many interesting statues living in her house, of Jesus and his Blessed Mother, Mary, and a few of Joseph the carpenter, and a few of people called saints, who were usually crying. Most of the statues wore pretty robes of pink and blue, and had suns on top of their heads, which, Nana told Kirsty, were called haloes. Kirsty's favorite was the one Nana gave them, with Jesus holding a little baby lamb. She loved to pick flowers and make them into a little crown to put on the lamb's head. This made Nana go all to pieces, saying it was "darling," and that Kirsty was "the most blessed little angel." This made Kirsty happy.
Daddy said Nana was "a nut" because she talked to the statues. Mommy told Daddy he shouldn't talk that way about his own mother, especially in front of Kirsty, because she was too little to know not to repeat things. Kirsty did SO know not to repeat things. She was five years old and not stupid. She would never tell Nana what Daddy said. She would also never tell Nana that if Nana were a nut, she would be an almond. She told Daddy, though, and it made Daddy laugh.
One day, when Kirsty was putting the flowers on Jesus and the Lamb, she felt someone behind her. She turned around and saw a man she'd never seen before. He had brown curly hair and a scratchy face. He wore a white shirt with no sleeves, and his fingernails were dirty.
The man didn't say hello, or say who he was and ask for Mommy or Daddy or Nana. He just smiled without showing his teeth, and kept walking toward Kirsty.
Kirsty tried to think what to do. This man was a stranger, maybe a burglar. He smelled funny, too, all sweaty, but a little like perfume, too. She opened her mouth to call for help. Maybe he would go away if she yelled. But he kept coming toward her, and she found herself staring at his belt buckle. His belt buckle was a circle, not a square, and now she saw that it wasn't just a circle, but two snakes with bright red eyes. Each snake's tail was in the other snake's mouth. Kirsty forgot to yell.
When the belt buckle was so close Kirsty could see the scales on the snakes, and then their little fangs, the man put his hand on her head. At first, he stroked her gently, like Mommy told her to pet little dogs they met at the park. Kirsty always pet dogs and cats gently, to prove that she would be a good owner of a puppy or kitty. If she was nice, Mommy and Daddy would get her one for her birthday, or Christmas. The man's hand closed into a fist in Kirsty's curls.
"Go ahead, beautiful," he said. "Go on and touch it."
"Frank?"
Nana had come in. It was Frank. Daddy's brother Frank! Frank was here!
The grown-ups were very odd about Frank. Nana talked about him sadly because she missed him, and asked Kirsty to pray for him. Daddy rolled his eyes about him, and said he was incorrigible and stupid. Mommy did not like Uncle Frank. She said so. "He's creepy, Larry," she would say, and Daddy would say he knew, but if Frank ever tried anything Mommy should let him know. Kirsty wondered what Uncle Frank would try.
Nana rushed to Frank smiling and sniffling and threw her arms around him, and Uncle Frank turned away from Kirsty to hug Nana back. Kirsty stepped around them, and Uncle Frank's eyes, dark and shiny, followed her.
"Oh, Frank!" Nana was crying. "You poor dear, you poor, poor dear. I prayed every day for justice to be served, for you to come back to me! Thank God!"
"They set me up, Ma," Uncle Frank said, patting Nana's back. "I knew you would have faith in me. It's what sustained me. I prayed to come back to you. "
"Frank?" Daddy had come in. He squinted at Uncle Frank and set down the packages he had been carrying. Kirsty saw her opportunity, and snuck over to the bags to take a peek. What surprise had Mommy and Daddy brought her—crayons? Ice cream? A dolly? A new puppy or kitten? "My God, Frank, what the hell are you doing here?"
Daddy's voice sounded happy, but Nana's did not. "Laurence! Language! And in front of your brother who has found God! Not to mention the child!"
Kirsty stepped away from the packages so nobody would know she was peeking. But somebody did know. Uncle Frank was still looking at her, smiling his smile without showing his teeth, but then he pulled his eyes away from Kirsty. "Hello, Cynthia," he said. This time, he showed his teeth.
"Hello, Frank," Mommy said. She had her arms crossed over her chest, and was smiling like she didn't really mean it.
"Oh Frank," Nana was saying. "LOOK at your niece! Isn't she precious? Kirsty, come here and hug and kiss your Uncle Frank."
Kirsty put her hands behind her back and walked up to Uncle Frank. She did not want to hug and kiss him. "Hello, Uncle Frank," she said, looking at his dusty boots with the chains. "It's nice to meet you."
The boots got small and disappeared as Uncle Frank lifted her and pulled her to him. The smell was very strong and Kirsty wanted to sneeze. His chest was harder than Daddy's. His face was huge and the stubble looked painful.
"You heard your grandmother," he said. "Hug and kiss Uncle Frank. He's been dying to meet you."
Kirsty turned her head just in time as Uncle Frank's wet mouth pressed into her cheek. The stubble hurt, and his lips felt fatter than Daddy's. He seemed to open his mouth a little, too.
"Your turn. Kiss me," Uncle Frank put his fingers on Kirsty's other cheek and tried to turn her head. Kirsty stiffened her neck and leaned back in Frank's arms.
"Don't be cruel, Beautiful," Frank said, his knuckles running over Kirsty's cheek. They felt rough, like hangnails, and tickled in a way that made her shiver, not giggle. Her eyes met Mommy's. Mommy was coming toward them. She looked angry.
"Stop trying to force her, Frank," she said. Her voice was hard. Kirsty had never heard Mommy sound like that before, but nobody else seemed concerned.
"She's a little shy, dear," Nana said. "She'll warm up to you quick though. Just give her a little time."
"All right," Frank said. He gave Kirsty one last squeeze and then put her down. Kirsty stepped away from his strange smell, which wasn't bad or good but both. "She'd better warm up soon, though, or else I'll have to take the presents I got back to India."
"India?" Kirsty loved to say the word India. It was so pretty, and made her think of elephants and flying carpets and the genie in Aladdin's Wonderful Lamp. She looked up at Uncle Frank. "Did you bring me back a genie? Or a flying carpet?"
"You'll have to wait and see. I'll have to warm up to YOU," Uncle Frank's teeth were showing. They were white. He brushes his teeth, Kirsty thought, but doesn't wash his hands.
"Oh, Frank, I have to make up your bed!" Nana clapped her hands and rocked on her toes.
"I'll help you. Larry, watch Kirsty." Mommy and Nana went upstairs. Kirsty wondered where Uncle Frank would sleep. Would it be in the attic?
"How did you manage it, Frank?" Daddy asked, putting away the groceries. He handed Kirsty a fresh baked chocolate chip cookie. "I mean, you've been, you know…so busy…"
"A friend was watching out for me," Uncle Frank said. He watched Kirsty nibble around the edge of the chocolate chip cookie. "I actually got out a month ago. I went to pick up my stuff, and stayed with her a little bit."
Daddy rolled his eyes. "How many this month, Frank, besides her?"
"Only one, Larry."
"Kirsty, honey, why don't you get the paper and crayons out and draw a picture?"
Kirsty smiled to herself as she pulled out the paper and crayons and hoisted herself up to the kitchen table. She loved to draw so much, she sometimes fell into the colors. She felt so happy, watching the all the shades and hues eat away the white. She wished she had a piece of paper big as the world, so that beautiful blankness would never run out. Sometimes, she would forget to look and listen to the world outside of the white and the color, so grown ups would keep talking like she wasn't even there. This time, she wasn't going to forget the world around her. She was going to listen. She placed her cookie next to her, picked a red crayon, and began.
"What were you sent up for this time, Frank? Steal an apple off a fruit cart? First degree murder?"
"I was just caught with some contraband substances. Substances that will probably be as easy to get as a six pack of beer by the time the little one here is grown." Kirsty jumped when she felt fingers push through her curls and lightly touch the back of her neck. She felt Uncle Frank standing behind her. His body seemed to hum, like the little electric heater that glowed such a pretty orange, but would hurt her if she touched it. Daddy's back was turned, putting away groceries, and Kirsty felt suddenly very nervous. She needed to see Daddy's eyes.
"She's beautiful, Larry," Uncle Frank said, lifting Kirsty's hair and then letting drift back down from his hand to her back. "You must be so proud."
Kirsty broke a piece off her cookie and offered it to Uncle Frank. The cookie would make him stop touching her hair. "Do you want some, Uncle Frank?"
Uncle Frank did not take the cookie in his fingers and pop it in his mouth. Instead, he grabbed Kirsty's wrist and leaned down. He wrapped his lips around her fingers and sucked, licking the crumbs and chocolate from her fingers.
He's going to eat me, Kirsty thought. He'll swallow my whole hand. She looked into his eyes. They flicked back and forth, from her to Daddy, and then snagged her gaze. She forgot her hand in his mouth—his eyes were swallowing her whole.
Later, Uncle Frank pulled out his things from India. They were in a pretty trunk carved from a red wood. The top was flat and decorated with black and white tiles in the shape of an elephant. He had the trunk open, and Kirsty could see piles of bright fabrics and papers. A smell, stronger than roses and spicier than lavender, wafted into her nose. Like the smell of Uncle Frank, Kirsty couldn't tell if she liked this scent or not. It made her want to sneeze.
The first bit of paper and cloth Uncle Frank unwrapped revealed a little elephant, carved out of red wood, that had bits of black rock for eyes. He handed this to Kirsty, who rocked it back and forth on the carpet.
"Did you ride an elephant in India, Uncle Frank?" Kirsty asked.
"No, Beautiful," Uncle Frank said.
"He was busy riding other wildlife," Daddy said. Nana gasped and Mommy smacked Daddy on the knee.
"Oh, like tigers? Wouldn't they bite?" The grown-ups laughed. Kirsty didn't like that they were laughing at her, but the funny object made out of brass that Uncle Frank unwrapped next distracted her. It was in the shape of a flower, and had birds facing out from the center, one on each petal. The birds' tails were little mirrors. Kirsty reached for it, and Nana grabbed her hand away.
"Careful, Kirsty," Nana said. "Uncle Frank brought these all the way from India. We don't want them broken."
Uncle Frank held the flower in front of Kirsty and lifted one of the birds off the flower. The birds' necks were long and graceful, and their eyes were little diamonds. There was a tiny bowl shaped like an egg where the bird had sat.
"This is where the women in India keep their make-up," said Uncle Frank, handing the little bird to Kirsty. "Women in India are the most beautiful women in the world, besides your mother, Kirsty," Uncle Frank looked at Mommy and smiled that hidden teeth smile. He ran a hand through Kirsty's hair. "And you."
"Kirsty, come sit by me," Mommy said. "You're crowding Uncle Frank. Come here."
Kirsty wanted to keep looking in the trunk, but she did as Mommy said.
"What else do you have, Frank?" Daddy said.
Uncle Frank pulled out a rolled up piece of cloth. He unrolled the cloth to show the most beautiful ladies, each sitting on a big flower. The lady sitting on the white flower had four arms, and each hand held something—two of her hands were playing what looked like a guitar, one held a string of beads, and the other held what seemed to be a rolled up piece of paper. The middle one was on a pink flower, and was holding two flowers in two of her hands, and pouring out money with her other two. The last lady was on a blue flower, and was holding a baby that had an elephant's head.
"This is the goddess Saraswati," Uncle Frank said, pointing to the lady one the white flower. "She is the goddess of wisdom. This little scroll she's holding is a book called the Vedas. The one in the middle is Lakshmi. She's the goddess of beauty and wealth. See how she pours coins out of her hands to all the people? And the last one is Parvati, with her son, Ganesha. Her husband Shiva got very angry at Ganesha and cut off his head-"
"Frank," Mommy said.
"But not to worry, because Shiva felt very bad and gave Ganesha an elephant head, because elephants are the smartest of the animals. Guess what Ganesha rides, Kirsty?"
"A big giant tiger!"
"No, that's what his mother Parvati rides. Ganesha rides a mouse."
"A mouse? That's ridiculous! Elephants are scared of mice."
"Not Ganesha. He fears nothing, and loves sweets." Uncle Frank looked at Nana. "Where should we hang this up, Mother?"
"Oh dear…It's lovely, Frank, but in a Christian household…"
"They'll add some nice balance."
"Frank, your father would turn in his grave."
"If you don't want to keep it, I'll take it," Mommy said. "It's lovely, and I wouldn't mind picking up a book and learning more about these goddesses. It would be nice to compare them to Isis and Nephthys." Mommy and Daddy had gone to Egypt long ago.
"It's perfect for you, Cynthia. Of course, none of these goddesses can hold a candle to you," Uncle Frank rolled up the scroll and handed it to Mommy, his eyebrows raised. His eyes had that strange look they had when he took the cookie from Kirsty's hand.
"Frank, give it a rest," Daddy said, taking the scroll from Uncle Frank.
There were more things—a pillow with a tiger stitched on it, and a little statue of a monkey in a cape and crown, who Uncle Frank said was another god named Hanuman. "He was a brave and strong warrior," Uncle Frank told everyone. "He saved Lakshmi from a demon named Ravana. Guess how many heads Ravana had, Kirsty?"
"A hundred million!"
"Close. He had ten, and eighteen arms. In that story, her name was Sita, not Lakshmi."
"None of these stories are true, Kirsty," Nana said. "It is all fairy tales, no more real than Sleeping Beauty or the Seven Dwarves."
No matter what Nana said, Kirsty believed that fairies were real, and was already certain that so were the three goddesses and Hanuman, and the 10 headed Ravana. She would need to ask Uncle Frank to tell her more about them, when Nana wasn't around to spoil the fun.
Later that night, after Kirsty had brushed her teeth and was in her pajamas, and had kissed Nana goodnight, Mommy and Daddy tucked her in. She wanted Uncle Frank to tuck her in, because she wanted to know more about the tales in India. She tossed and turned. Finally, she turned on the little lamp and pulled out her paper and crayons. She sat at what used to be her grandfather's writing desk, and began to draw a picture of Hanuman, rescuing beautiful Lakshmi from the terrible Ravana.
She was drawing a giant sword for Hanuman when she smelled that funny smell that wasn't bad, but wasn't good, either, the smell that made her want to sneeze. The door opened, but she didn't have to turn around to know who it was. She turned and smiled at Uncle Frank. "Look, Uncle Frank. There's Hanuman, and he has a giant sword, and I'm going to draw Ravana and Lakshmi, too."
"It's splendid, Beautiful," Uncle Frank knelt beside her and tangled his fingers in her hair.
"Will you tell me more, Uncle Frank?"
He lifted Kirsty off the chair and positioned her on his lap, and told her about how Hanuman jumped all the way across the sea to rescue Sita, who was the goddess Lakshmi born as a human woman. And then, together, Hanuman and Rama, who was Sita's husband, chopped off all of Ravana's heads. Rama, Uncle Frank told her, was the god Vishnu, born as a human man. Kirsty drew as he talked, deciding to draw Hanuman leaping with his sword over the sea to Sita. The paper looked cramped.
Suddenly, Uncle Frank took the crayon from her hand. "I have another story to tell you, one you can see, as well as hear." He pushed Kirsty off his lap and squeezed his knees around her. He leaned back, putting a hand in his pocket.
"Can you keep a secret?"
"Sure I can!"
"This is a secret, a sweet secret, that only you and I can know. " He gently pulled one of Kirsty's curls. "You know, I'm so excited to meet you, Kirsty. My own little niece. We'll have so much fun together." He pulled Kirsty's curl again, a little harder this time. "I have so many things to teach you. So many things to show you." His knees tightened around Kirsty's middle. "Things your daddy can't even imagine."
"Scary things?"
"To your daddy, maybe, but not to you. I can already tell. You're like me. You're not afraid of anything. You're fun." He leaned forward. "Do your mommy and daddy tell you there are things you can't do?"
"Yeah, all the time! Nana too. She tells me things aren't real and she won't let me draw monsters and ghosts, and Mommy and Daddy made me go to bed before you got to tell me the stories."
"Beautiful," Uncle Frank cupped her face in his hands. "When you're with me, you can draw whatever you want, and I will never tell you anything isn't real. I will show you that anything is possible. I will prove it to you. Nothing is forbidden with me."
"Forbidden?"
"There's nothing you and I can't do, nothing forbidden to us. We can take whatever we want."
Kirsty's mind swam. She could stay up late with Uncle Frank and watch monster movies. They would eat ice cream, and she could say naughty words like "damn," "ass," and "crap."
Uncle Frank pulled something out of his pocket. It balanced in the palm of his hand.
Kirsty couldn't understand. At first it looked like just a white blob in Uncle Frank's hand, but then she saw the breasts, and the parts Mommy told her about, that she and Daddy used to make her. These parts had hair, and the part that Mommy told her Daddy had was going into the woman, inside her body. The man part was long and thin and was pushing into the woman, and his hand was squeezing the woman's breast. The centers of the breasts—Kirsty forgot what they were called—were like eyes staring directly at Kirsty, shaming her.
"Do you know what they're doing, Beautiful?" Uncle Frank's other hand reached around and stroked her face, her neck. "They're making love. You see the man's penis? That's what that's called. It's what I have. It goes inside the woman. Two become one. It feels good, Beautiful. Like Heaven."
Kirsty couldn't move, even if Uncle Frank's knees weren't squeezing tighter and tighter. She saw that the man and the women were kissing, and she saw their tongues, going into each other's mouths. This made her stomach twist in sick disgust just as much as the genitals did.
"What's wrong with you? Are you afraid?" Uncle Frank's hand fisted in her curls. "Was I wrong to show you this? Was I wrong to trust you?" He pulled her hair, slowly, forcing her to look at him. "I guess you're not brave after all. I guess you want to be like your Nana, and be afraid of everything."
"No, I'm not like that! I'm not afraid."
"You're no fun, are you?" He sneered. "You'll never go on any adventures, never be like Hanuman or Lakshmi."
"No, I will! I can! I just need to look at it again!"
He lifted it to her eyes. It lay there, in his hand, an unchanging fact, no matter how many times she blinked. Once, it seemed as if it was writhing in Uncle Frank's palm, but then it stopped.
"Will it hurt?" She whispered. She was certain that the stone would come alive again at any minute, and this time stay alive. The man and the woman would spread their lips to reveal mouths full of fangs, and bite her.
"Oh, Kirsty," Uncle Frank rubbed her bare arm. "Sometimes the hurt is where the Heaven is."
"What?"
"You'll see," Uncle Frank put the figurine back in his pocket. He lifted Kirsty up and carried her back to bed. "Life is full of riddles. It's a puzzle. I want to solve that puzzle, Kirsty." He pulled the covers up to Kirsty's chin, and then sat at the edge of her bed, looking down at her. His eyes made Kirsty want to squirm deeper under her blanket, but she stopped herself. She didn't want Uncle Frank to accuse her of not being fun.
"My little Alice in Wonderland," he said. "Soon, you'll enjoy the puzzles as much as I do." He stroked Kirsty's cheek with his knuckles. He smiled, a smile that exposed his teeth and narrowed his eyes. "Sweet dreams, my sweet. Now kiss me, and sweeten my dreams."
Kirsty pulled herself up and leaned in to kiss Uncle Frank's cheek. His cheek was rough and oily. When she pulled away, he turned his head, and kissed her lips. His mouth was dry and hot with cigarettes and liquor. He turned off the light and shut the door behind him.
Kirsty dreamed that night of monsters made of men and women, their tongues twisting and spiraling around each other. The women parts were bigger than Kirsty and opened and closed with wet slaps. The men parts were the size of trees and poked at Kirsty while she backed helplessly against a wall. The men and the women were laughing at her, their faces like Uncle Frank's when stroked her cheek, vampiric, predatory faces.
Then, all was dark and quiet. The men and women vanished, like a vacuum sucked them up. The room she was in was cool, and very still.
A white shape came out of the darkness. The shape blinked, and she realized it was a face. The face had pins and needles sticking out of it, but it wasn't crying. The head it belonged to was bald. Its skin was white as paper.
The face regarded her with shiny black eyes.
She heard the ringing of a giant bell.
Then the room was gone.
She heard a victory cry, and turned to see Hanuman leap toward her over a sparkling blue sea. He wrapped his strong, furry arms around her, and she woke up.
In five minutes, she had forgotten everything about the dream but Hanuman.
The next morning, Mommy dressed Kirsty up in her new pink sundress and matching pink hat.
"Oh, Darling. You're a little rosebud!"
Kirsty twirled in front of the mirror. She did feel awful pretty.
When Kirsty and Mommy went downstairs for pancakes, Daddy said that Kirsty was the cutest thing in the world, and Nana said she was a little angel.
Uncle Frank came down late, after Nana yelled up at him three times. His hair was damp and his eyes were pink. He was wearing the clothes he had worn the night before, and he had a towel around his neck. Kirsty was worried he would pull out the statue and show it to everybody. It would kill Nana, she was sure. It would make Mommy sick.
"We need to get you new clothes, Frank," Nana said. She patted Frank's curly hair. "Maybe we'll get you a haircut, too."
Frank waved her away. "Don't bother."
"We're going to take the train today, Frank!"
Frank shoveled pancakes into his mouth, using his fingers and his fork. "What do you want me to do about it, Ma?"
Kirsty had never heard anyone talk to his mother like that before. She had never seen anybody be so scornful of the train, either. The train was wonderful.
"Well, Frank, we were hoping we would all go, as a family," Nana sat down next to Uncle Frank and looked up at him, like she was a little girl and he was the grown-up.
"Yeah, Frank, it'll be fun," Daddy said.
Mommy didn't say anything.
"Please, Frank," Nana said. She sounded like she might cry. "Do it for me."
Uncle Frank rolled his eyes. "I believe I've done enough." A bit of syrup stuck to the stubble on his chin.
"What do you mean, Frank?" Nana was going to cry. "I haven't seen you in so long!"
Uncle Frank glared at Nana. "Mother dear, I went straight from India to jail. I can't tell you which is worse—the heat in New Delhi, or the stench in prison. I come bearing gifts. What more do you need? Really, what the—"
"I'll buy you some drinks, Frank," Daddy said. "And some new clothes. We'll get the booze while the girls shop. It's all my treat."
Daddy really wanted Frank to go. Kirsty could tell. She didn't want Nana and Daddy to feel sad.
"Please, Uncle Frank," she said. "Please come with us."
Uncle Frank turned his reddish eyes on her. Those eyes, those dark, wet eyes, and high bones of his face, looked very strange to Kirsty. Uncle Frank looked sick, or like a monster she dreamed of once who could pull off his skin.
"Your Daddy had me at 'I'll buy you some drinks,'" he wiped his mouth on his bare arm. "Just give me a few minutes to freshen up."
Kirsty skipped ahead while they walked downtown to the Puffer Belly Station, playing hopscotch with the shadows cast by the trees. She stopped frequently to look in windows. She looked the longest at the toy store. In there was a stuffed monkey with Velcro paws and long arms she could loop around her neck—she knew because she had tried. She could wear the monkey all day. She was going to call him Hanuman. She decided right then and there.
"Kirsty," Uncle Frank had walked ahead. He stood in front of a restaurant's window box. Kirsty knew that restaurant. They had delicious cake and they put extra cherries in her Shirley Temple. Their window box had little cut outs of hearts and stars. Right now, it was full of pink and white daisies. Uncle Frank plucked a pink and a white, even though it was against the rules. He went to Kirsty and tucked the daisies into the ribbon on her hat.
"A beauty for a beauty," he said.
Kirsty took off her hat and looked at the daisy. She smelled it and ran her fingertips over its petals, softly. She smiled up at Uncle Frank. He felt sorry for the statue, she supposed. He was being so kind now, and smiled at her so big, she could believe that that didn't happen.
He scooped Kirsty up and put her on his shoulders. His hands gripped her tightly, but didn't stay in one place. He held her ankles, but then his hands went to her wrists, then her knees, then her ankles again. It was almost as if he couldn't get a good enough grip.
"Look at that," Kirsty heard Nana say to Mommy. "Leave it to that lovely little child to melt my Frank's heart. He needs one of his own."
"Well, he does look genuinely happy," Mommy admitted. "He's noticing the beauty of his surroundings. It looks like your little boy could be mellowing out."
When they got to the station, Uncle Frank got Kirsty a candy bar, her favorite, the kind with the caramel that was flow-y, not thick and blocky. Mommy took it to save for later. Nana thanked Uncle Frank for getting Kirsty the chocolate even more than Kirsty did.
From Uncle Frank's shoulders, Kirsty could touch the train from the platform. She stroked its bright red side and ran her finger along the gold lines that spelled out "Puffer Belly."
"There's a long tunnel we have to go through before we get to the next town," Kirsty said.
"Are you scared?" Uncle Frank's voice was quiet. He stroked her bare calf. It tickled.
"No. That's my favorite part."
"Do you like dark places?"
"Not really. It just goes faster in the tunnel. Stop that!" Uncle Frank's fingers had worked their way into her sandal and were tickling her feet. She kicked at him, but then felt bad. He had bought her that candy bar and had given her the daisies.
"I'm sorry."
Uncle Frank didn't seem upset at all. "It's good to know you're ticklish. I'll have to remember your weak spots."
When they got on the train, Kirsty showed Uncle Frank the cubbies where people put their things, even their pets, and was delighted that there was a tiny dog in a carrier to prove it. Then she showed him the little bathroom where you pulled a cord to flush the toilet, and the space between the train cars. "When you walk while the train is moving, it wiggles under your feet," she explained.
The cars' passengers sat in groups of six seats, three facing forward, and three facing backward. When they sat down, Mommy and Daddy sat on one side with Nana, and Frank sat on the other, with Kirsty. Kirsty reminded Uncle Frank to look out the window, and showed him how to close the curtain that hid each group of seats from view. She pointed out the seats were red and made out of velvet. Then she took her usual train position—kneeling on the seat and pressing her face to the window. She loved to watch the world zipping by. It looked like when her watercolors smeared. If she craned her neck just so, she could just see the tunnel, first as an itty-bitty dot, but then it got bigger and bigger until it swallowed them all up.
The tunnel was just about to swallow them when she was pulled from the window and into a lap. At first, she thought it was Daddy pulling her away, but then she smelled that scent of glass bottles sipped by Mommy and Daddy at night, and burning cigarettes, and felt his stubble against her forehead. The tunnel swallowed them and a hand covered her mouth.
Under the roar of the engine Kirsty heard Frank whispering to her, but she couldn't understand what he was saying. His words were strange. His breath was hot, his chest was hot, his hand was hot as it went up her leg. It disappeared under her dress. She could feel it hot and rough between her legs, in the private place. Daddy never even touched her there. Only Mommy did, when she gave Kirsty a bath, and not even that anymore that much, because Kirsty was growing up.
The train rocked back and forth, and Kirsty rocked back and forth on the hand. Uncle Frank's sweaty palm pressed into her mouth. His fingers pressed between her legs. She tried to squirm away, but he was made of stone. She couldn't pull his hand from her mouth.
She remembered when she was playing at school and bonked her nose on the monkey bars, how the pain blinded and choked her with her own tears. She remembered when she was pulling off her jacket and hit her elbow, hard, on the kitchen table—it felt like a firecracker had gone off in her arm. Both of these feelings combined in the place where Uncle Frank was pushing and rubbing through her panties. The smell of tobacco and salt-sweat on his fingers made her feel faint and sick. In the darkness, and the speed, she felt herself being obliterated. Her feet and hands drifted away, and then her legs and arms, little by little. Her mind raced to keep itself focused, to keep all her body parts together.
Suddenly, it all went away. The rushing of the train, the heat, the hands—they were all gone. It was now just her, sitting in a cool, dark room.
A man was there. He wore strange black clothes with squares cut out of them. The clothes were as shiny as his eyes. His skin was white as fresh paper. The strangest thing about him, though, was the fact that his face was covered in pins and needles, and he wasn't crying.
She wanted to ask the man why he wasn't crying, when pins and needles hurt, when he spoke to her.
"It can't be," he said. His voice was deep and buzzing, and scared Kirsty more than his spiky white skin. "But then…stranger things…."
Kirsty was blinded by sunlight and normalcy. She rubbed her eyes. She was on Uncle Frank's lap, and his hands were where hands should be: clasped and at rest on her lap, on top of her dress. They had come out of the tunnel. Nana and Mommy and Daddy were all looking at her with too-happy faces, and for a moment she despised them. She felt exhausted and drained, like she had been taken apart and put back together, but with pieces in the wrong places. She felt chafed and poked. She squirmed off of Uncle Frank's lap and climbed into her mother's.
"Oh, honey," Daddy said. "Did you take a little cat nap?"
Kirsty nodded, inhaling her mother's freesia scent, and exhaling the nightmare. Yes. That's what happened. She dozed off. She didn't remember feeling tired, but that was no matter. She fell asleep, and had a nightmare.
"She just went limp in my arms," she heard Uncle Frank say.
"The motion of the train is soothing," Nana said.
The rest of the day was happy and bright, and Kirsty felt warm with Nana and Mommy. Everybody had dinner together, and Frank sat between Nana and Mommy, across from Daddy. Then Kirsty got a bath and went to bed. She felt a pleasant sleepiness, and dozed off right away.
She woke up later to a very quiet, dark house and a very full bladder. She turned on her little lamp to be a beacon to guide her back to her bedroom, and tiptoed down the hall. She finished, and, yawning, made her way back to her room.
"Pssst, Kirsty," a voice said over her head. She looked up. Uncle Frank was leaning over the banister, looking down at her.
"Come up here, Beautiful."
Kirsty hesitated at the bottom of the stairs, one foot on the step.
"Come to Daddy."
"You're not my Daddy, silly."
"We're playing a game. Whenever it's just you and me, I'll be your Daddy."
"That's all? That's not much of a game."
"Come up. I have someone I want you to meet."
"Is it a statue, again?"
"No, but if you'd like, you can look at it again."
Kirsty stopped on the third stair. She did not want to see the statue again.
"Come on, you'll really like it. Come on. Come to Daddy."
Kirsty remembered something scary had happened in the tunnel. She didn't remember what, precisely, but she knew Uncle Frank had been there.
"It's really late. I'll get in trouble if I'm up."
"Nobody will ever know. Here. Wait there." Uncle Frank disappeared into his room. Kirsty shivered, alone on the stair. When Uncle Frank came back, he had something large and fluffy in his arms. The light from his bedroom showed one half of the creature, one brown button eye, one up-curve of a sewn on grin.
"Hanuman!" Kirsty slapped a hand over her mouth, but she didn't hear anybody waking up. Uncle Frank took one sideways step.
"You have to play with him in here," he said. "He wants to play with you."
Kirsty went up toward Hanuman, step by step. Uncle Frank eased back into his room, inch-by-inch.
"C'mon, Beautiful. Daddy wants to play with you, too. Come, come to him, come."
The door closed behind Kirsty.
Uncle Frank left the next morning.
The day after that, it hurt Kirsty to pee. She couldn't hold it, either, and she would wake up in the night with the hot poison liquid seeping from her into the sheets. She would lean against her head against the bathroom wall and sob and scream. It burned and stung, like when she was stung by a hornet. When she wiped there were little pink spots on the paper.
Mommy took Kirsty to the doctor. The doctor gave her two pills—one was to kill the germs, and the other turned her pee bright orange.
"Make sure she wipes from front to back," the doctor told Mommy. "It's not uncommon for little girls this age to forget."
"She's wetting the bed," Mommy told the doctor. Kirsty blushed. "She wakes up screaming."
"Probably a side effect of the UTI. Antibiotics should clear that right up. Don't be alarmed by the color of her urine for the next couple days; that's the pain killer. Once that kicks in she won't wake up screaming."
Kirsty clutched Hanuman tightly, curling around him. The lower part of her tummy burned. She rocked back and forth.
"Is there anything else that could cause this, besides not wiping correctly?" Mommy was staring hard at the doctor.
"Nine times out of ten, it's not wiping correctly."
"What's the one time out of ten?"
"Well, there's a condition called bladder exstrophy, which causes patients to be susceptible, because the bladder is exposed. Playing in the dirt without underpants…"
"Could someone have….given this to her?"
The doctor was quiet for a moment. "Is there any reason for you to suspect someone doing such a thing, Mrs. Cotton?"
Kirsty looked at Mommy's hands. They were clenching and unclenching around her purse strap. "I'm probably just being over-protective."
"If you suspect anything like that, I need to call the police, Mrs. Cotton. Inquiries will have to be made. Everyone will have to be questioned."
"No! I'm just a rather zealous mother. I want to know all the causes for everything. I'll make sure she wipes front to back from now on."
Mommy held Kirsty tightly all the way to the car. Hanuman dangled from Kirsty's hand. She was never going to let him go. He had made her feel safe when Uncle Frank had put her back to bed. He was warm and soft.
Mommy fastened Kirsty in, and then sat next to her in the backseat.
"Kirsty," she said. "Darling, I need you to tell me something, okay? And it has to be the truth."
"Yes, Mommy."
Mommy chewed on her thumbnail. She was very, very nervous.
"Kirsty, did Uncle Frank do anything, did he do anything to you?"
Kirsty went stiff. What was she going to do now?
"I mean…Were you ever alone with him?"
"No, Mommy."
"Kirsty, when did he give you that monkey doll?"
Kirsty had been scared that she would forget what Uncle Frank told her to say. Now, she knew she would always remember. "I told you, the day he left. It was on my bed."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, Mommy, I'm sure."
"Please, please tell me, Kirsty. You don't have to be afraid. No matter what, you can tell me."
She smiled at Mommy. "Mommy, I'm not scared."
Mommy cupped Kirsty's cheeks, gently. "You're not scared of your Uncle Frank?"
"No, I like him. I like him a lot."
Mommy's eyes were sad and worried. She hugged Kirsty. "Okay," she whispered.
After she had moved up front and started the car, Mommy murmured, "I'm probably hysterical."
Kirsty leaned back, her bladder throbbing dully. She had said what Uncle Frank had told her to say. He wouldn't come get her now, with that knife, and kill them both to keep them from going to jail. He couldn't let her go to jail, he had told her. He loved her too much to see her go through that. Jail was so bad it was better to die.
This was the worst pain she had ever been through. She wondered how jail could be any worse.
