September 10th, 1969
Sandwiched between my lumpy mattress and threadbare blankets, I shiver slightly, even though it is summer. I have not eaten since yesterday morning because the only food left in the house since yesterday morning is stale saltine crackers we bought last month, and I know if I eat too many, then all I'll have is the blackberries in the woods, and blackberry season's almost over. I know my mum gets to eat a bit at her waitressing job in Knockturn Alley, and my dad gets to eat a bit at his current job in the car factory, but I'm not sure what I'm supposed to eat. My mum has been too busy working to go grocery shopping in a while. She's been working a lot of overtime lately. My dad's boss got mad at him yesterday because he didn't meet his production goal at the car factory. When he got home, he said it was my fault because I got in his way too much and distracted him when he was trying to rest after work. My back is still sore from his belt. At least this time it wasn't his fists. My mum tells me that someday it will all be the way it once was. The steel mill will open back up, dad will get his old job back, he'll stop drinking, we'll be able to afford to have food and electricity and decent clothes again, and we will be happy. I really want to believe her.
My stomach churns. Ignoring it, I sit up, brush the hair out of my face, and look around my room to see the cardboard box I keep my mum's old school books and my dad's old Bible in, my old, rickety wardrobe, and my mum's old trunk. In the trunk I keep my collection of strange rocks, a couple of little toy trucks and army men that used to belong to my dad that my grandma gave me before she died, my baby blanket that's falling apart, and a harmonica I found at the park. I push myself up off my mattress, put back on the same t-shirt, jeans, socks, and sweater I've been wearing for the last four days, and slip on the only pair of shoes I have— an old pair of canvas sneakers that used to be black, but are now faded and full of holes. I sneak down the stairs, listening carefully for signs of life as I reach the bottom step. Hearing none, I walk to the bathroom to comb my dirty hair with my fingers so that it covers my yellowing black eye. The water heater's been broken for months, and I'm always cold anyways, so I haven't showered in about a week and a half. Stopping by the kitchen, I lower my head to drink from the tap. I drink enough water to fool my stomach into thinking it's full so I don't have to eat as many crackers. My stomach might be full of water, but my brain knows I'm still hungry, so I count out four saltine crackers. It might not be much, but in my head I pretend every cracker is a whole different meal. The first one is grilled cheese, and the next one is chicken tenders and fries. The one after that is mashed potatoes and gravy. The last cracker is cherry pie. While I eat, I sweep the floor. The whiskey bottle my dad threw last night is still shattered on the floor of the living room. I don't want to forget to clean it up and have him or my mum be mad at me. After sweeping, I feel too tired to leave yet, so I curl up on the couch and sleep for a bit. Once I wake up, I drink some more water, and leave the house, locking the door behind me. I stop on the outskirts of the woods to pick some blackberries, then leave for the playground. When I have walked a little way down the block, I stop and sit down on the side of the road. I feel dizzy and faint, and my heart is beating slow. My muscles shake, and the cold in my bones that never seems to go away creeps into my chest. After a few minutes, I force myself to stand back up and continue on to the park. As I walk, I quietly sing to myself,
"Will ye go, lassie, go?
And we'll all go together
To pluck wild mountain thyme
All around the bloomin' heather
Will ye go, lassie go?"
When I get to the park, I see Lily. She is flying from the swings like an angel. Her hair fans out behind her like wildfire. She is wearing her school uniform, and the top half of her hair is tied in a white ribbon. From behind the bushes, I watch her swing, favoring to wait and watch rather than draw attention to myself and cause her to stop enjoying herself. She launches herself off the swing and floats to the ground like an angel. I always feel as if she must be hiding her wings somewhere, and that if I can just catch her off guard I might see them. I sigh, and begin walking over to her.
"Sev! I didn't see you there! How are you? Tuney's been angry with me again," she continues without waiting for an answer, "You look so tired! Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. She's always mean to you, though. Are you surprised?"
"Don't be too cheerful, Sev," she laughs, "You wanna come over to my house today? I told my parents you might come!"
"I don't wanna intrude."
"No! My parents don't care! They said they're glad I made a friend here!"
"If you're sure. We can just stay out of their way," I shrug.
"Okay! My dad will probably be grading or watching T.V. He might want me to to my homework when we get home, but you can play with Lady or something," Lily says, beginning to walk.
"Who's Lady? And what do you mean he's grading?"
"Lady's my dog! She's cute. You'll like her. And my dad's a teacher. Come on!"
I sigh, and begin walking. I'm nervous to hang out near her parents, especially if her dad's just come home from work. My dad wants to be left alone when he gets home from work, so we'll just have to be quiet.
Lily's house is brick, like all the houses in Cokeworth, but hers looks a little newer and cleaner than the ones on my street. Lily opens the door, and a large, copper colored pitbull greets us, smiling and wagging her tail. I am afraid because my dad has always told me about how vicious dogs are. When I was little, he used to tell me that if I misbehaved, he would feed me to a big dog. Lily greets the pitbull lovingly, squatting down and rubbing her hands all over the dog's squirming body.
"Hi, Lady! How's my precious little baby girl? Oh, I love you love you love you!" she coos.
"You sure it's safe?" I ask nervously.
Affronted, Lily turns back to me and says, "Sev, you silly goose! Lady is the best dog in the world! Of course she's safe!" Then facing Lady again, she says, "Don't listen to the mean little boy, Lady-girl!"
I smile tentatively at the dog, and she smiles back. Her tongue is hanging out of her mouth, and she looks friendly enough, but her teeth are big and sharp. At that moment, Lily's father comes into the front hall. He is tall and looks strong, but not as tall or strong as my dad. He has brownish-red hair that looks as if it's starting to thin out. His green eyes look kindly out from behind his glasses. He smiles when he sees Lily squatting down with Lady, then he smiles down at me. I look at my feet.
"Lily! How was school today? I just got home myself!" he exclaims.
"It was okay. Marcus pulled my hair again at recess, so I pushed him. Patty says he only does that 'cause he likes me, but I think he does that 'cause he's mean!"
"Did Miss Johnson say anything to him about it? I know this isn't the first time he's done that."
"No," Lily shakes her head, frowning, and I have an urge to go find Marcus and give him a piece of my mind, "She didn't see it."
"I'll let her know that Marcus has been doing that so she can be on the lookout, alright? And I'm proud of you for sticking up for yourself, and not letting other people hurt you."
"Thanks, dad!" Lily smiles, and gives her dad a hug. I don't remember my dad ever sticking up for me or saying he was proud of me. I wish he did, though.
"You must be Severus! Lily has told us so much about you!" Mr. Evans says, as he reaches down to shake my hand.
I shake lightly, and withdraw as soon as possible. He seems nice, but you never know.
"I'm doing some grading in the living room. Do you have any homework to do?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Why don't you come do it before you and Severus play? Severus, I haven't seen you in school! Do you go somewhere else?"
"No, sir," I mumble, "My mum said she'd homeschool me. I really miss school, though."
"Well, since Lily will be doing homework, would you like to help me with my grading?"
"Yes, sir!" I smile.
While Lily does her homework, I help Mr. Evans with his grading, then he gives me something to read. It's hard for me, but he doesn't mind when I ask questions. After Lily's done, we play with Lady. She can do sit, paw, down, go-to-sleep, play dead, and dance. Lily makes me give Lady a treat after she plays dead. I'm scared, but Lady takes it so gently from my hand. I take a chance and pat her on the head. She smiles up at me, and I feel the fear starting to melt away.
Petunia is strangely quiet throughout supper, and leaves the table quickly after finishing her plate. Lily's parents notice her leaving, and exchange worried glances. They ask me about my parents, if I have siblings, and what I like to do in my free time. Mr. Evans tells me he is a teacher at the school here. He recently left a nice, parochial school to come live down here. He thought he could do more good working at a school where the children did not have as many opportunities. He heard of the steel mill shutting down a couple of years ago and saw how so many people lost their jobs here.
"My dad used to work in the mill," I say, looking at my empty plate sadly.
"Really?!" he exclaims as Mrs. Evans ladles more food onto my plate, "but I've never seen you before! Do you go to a different school?"
"No, sir. I used to go to school, but then the mill closed and my mum had to go to work, and she said she'd homeschool me, but she don't have time, so I just try to read her old school books."
"Well, I have some leftover workbooks I'd be happy to give you, if you'd like! And next time you come over, while Lily does her homework, you could work on them."
I smile and nod excitedly, saying, "Yes, please!" I like learning, and I miss learning new things and going to school! After supper, Mr. Evans gives me two workbooks and a pen. One for math and one for English. I hold them very delicately. I don't remember the last time I had something this new!
When it's time to go, Mr. Evans walks me home. I tell him I can walk, but since it's dark out, he insists I let him walk with me. I wish I could just melt away when we arrive at my house. My dad's old truck is not there. That means he's either working overtime tonight, or at the bar. Hoping he's working overtime, I whisper a quick thank you to Mr. Evans, walk slowly up to my house, and unlock the door. I turn around and wave before I go inside, and Mr. Evans waves back before going back home. When I get inside my house, I quietly shut the door, and still thinking about Lily's house and my new workbooks, I sneak up the stairs, just in case my mum is sleeping. I check my parents' room to see if my mum is awake, but she is already asleep, so I do not bother her. Instead, I open my bedroom door and collapse on my mattress. I work on my workbooks for a little while until I fall asleep.
My head snaps up from its position on my pillow to the sound of a car door slamming. I look out my window— it's pitch black outside. As I huddle up under the blanket, I wonder how long I have been asleep. I briefly consider trying to find somewhere to hide in case he's come home drunk again, but there's no time now. The door to the house slams, and I hear him curse and start stomping up the stairs.
"RUS!"
My heart is beating too fast— I shake, eyes wide, staring into nothing.
"RUS!" I smell the whiskey on his breath as he rips open my door, tears the blanket off me, grabs my tiny arm, and throws me into the hallway. The light from the dingy wall lamp blinds me, and I stumble and fall down the stairs. As I hit the floor, the back of my head slams into the ground, and I see lights dance in my eyes. I try to scramble back up and make a break for the door, but, dizzy, I trip over my own feet. He grabs my tiny, bony waist and throws me bodily against the wall.
"TELL ME WHY THE FRONT DOOR WAS UNLOCKED, BOY!" He grabs the front of my shirt, hauls me up, and shakes me hard.
"I'm sorry!" I cry, "I forgot!"
"YOU STUPID FUCKIN' KID! HOW DO YOU FORGET TO LOCK THE FUCKIN' DOOR?!" He smacks me across the left side of my face.
"I'm sorry!" My eyes begin to well up with tears, and they start rolling down my cheeks as my dad slaps my left cheek again, as if he didn't hit me hard enough last time.
"STOP FUCKIN' CRYIN', YOU GODDAMN BABY!" He shakes me again, then punches me in the eye and throws me back down to the floor. He kicks me in the ribs, kneels over me, backhands me across the face, and punches me in the jaw, "YOU WORTHLESS, STUPID, GODDAMN, MOTHERFUCKIN' KID! GET THE FUCK UP— YOU AIN'T NEVER GONNA LEAVE THAT DOOR UNLOCKED AGAIN, YOU HEAR ME?" And he picks me up, throws me over his shoulder, and carries me back upstairs. When we get to my bedroom, he throws me back down to the floor, rips off his belt, and yells, "TAKE YOUR FUCKIN' SHIRT OFF!"
I know better than to say anything, so, still sobbing, I shakily stand up and pull my ratty old t-shirt over my head, looking at the floor so he can't see the tears rolling down my cheeks. He grabs my hair, jerks me around to face the wall, and shoves my face forward. I reach out with my hands before my face hits the wall, and he begins whipping me with his belt. My mother never comes in.