Independence Day

By Kinmoku Minlight

            Fiona smoothed her blonde hair back and sighed. She laid on the porch swing and let the breeze push her. Faintly, she could hear the sound of the triumphant songs. It was the day that the war had ended. The festivities were going to begin that next day.

            Fiona closed her eyes and laughed as she remembered how her Van had laughed and played and been exuberant when it had ended. How she had thought it was all over, no more fighting for him. She covered her closed eyes and tried to press out the   memories that still haunted her mind.

"Mama?"

"Hmm…?" she responded vaguely.

"Are we going to the fireworks tomorrow?"

            Fiona sighed and laughed weakly.

"It would be nice to see the fireworks again, wouldn't it?" she asked her daughter.

"Mama, when was the last time you saw them?"

            The feeling of the old emotions flowed into her. She didn't respond; she just ruffled her daughter's hair.

"Are you okay, mama?"

"Of course, honey." She sat up and patted the spot next to her. "Sit up next to your old ma."

            The child sat next to her mother and laid her head on her lap.

Well she looked all right by dawn's early light Though she looked a little worried and weak

            Later that night, Vanessa sat alone at the dining table, eating her dinner quietly. She kept thinking about her mother, about how strong she was. She hoped to be like her when she grew up.

"How was your day, Van?" Vanessa listened as she swung her small legs back and forth under the table as she watched her father walk in. Fiona was the dishes casually.

            He didn't answer.

"I heard they're going to be fireworks tomorrow." She said shyly.

            She's afraid, thought Vanessa. She's afraid of him. I would be too.

"They're fireworks every year." His words were slurred and Vanessa could tell he had been drinking again.

"Why don't we go this year?" she touched his arm. "It'll be nice to remember."

            He just ripped his hand away.

She tried to pretend he was drinkin' again

            He glared angrily at her.

"Vanessa, please go to your room." Said Fiona quietly.

"But, mama—"

"Please?"

"Leave the girl alone." Grumbled Van, stumbling and grabbing the counter for balance.

"Dad, don't hit her!" Fiona gently pushed Vanessa out of the room.

"Dammit, I said leave the girl alone!" said Van angrily.

"Van, don't." she said quietly, looking at the floor.

"Don't tell me what to do, woman!"

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

            I watched the shadow of my father. His hand lifted and came down on my mother. She held her cheek and turned away from him. I can't bear to see her like this.

But daddy left the proof on her cheek

            Mama must've seen me in the corner.

"Vanessa, go. Get away from here!" she whispered, biting back her tears.

And I was only eight years old that summer

And I always seemed to be in the way

            I ran out of the house and onto the porch. There I sat, listening to the abuse. I listened to pound after pound and cry after cry until I couldn't take it anymore.

            The fair would start soon. I'd go there until Dad got sober. I only hoped my mama would be okay. Each drunken attack lasts longer and happens more often every time.

So I took myself down to the fair in town On Independence Day

            I walked down the dirt road, my sandal's broken thong slapping against my ankle. I won't think about mama or dad. It'll pass over. I hope.

            As I walked, I heard the two doctors and the preacher talking in the common room of the church. I sat on the bench and eavesdropped.

Well word gets around in a small, small town

            "Have you heard of the abuse that Flyheight's been giving his wife?"

            "Yes, such a gentle creature that Fiona is. But what proof of it is there?"

            "She always shows up on Sunday with horrible bruises on her face, a black eye once."

            "Well, that's interesting. But what about their daughter, Vanessa, I think was her name?"

            "I don't know. The poor child has to live through that."

            "That Flyheight was so nice as a boy. But now, I believe that whiskey has turned him into a dangerous man."

They said he was a dangerous man

            The lights swirled around me wonderfully. It felt so good to be in a place where I didn't have to listen to the yelling and cursing. I spun around in a circle and took in all the lights into my heart. I let it lift me up and exalt my spirits. Nothing mattered more to me then that fair, then.

            I thought I could stay my whole life at the fair. I could live on the Farris Wheel and eat the corndogs and hotdogs and all of the wonderful fair food. I could work as a vender for the ice cream shop.

            Shaking my head, I thought to myself, Crazy talk. No one lives at a fair. The lights eventually went off and I did spend the night at fair, but it was only one night. I lay on the waiting bench next to the Farris Wheel and listened to the chirping crickets all around me.

"Vanessa?"

            The sun blinded me as I opened my eyes. I guess it was morning. And, it was Sunday too.

"Vanessa? It's time to go." My mother's face had a splotchy purple bruise on her right cheek. She picked up my half -awake body and carried me to the gates of the park, where we met my father. Dressed in his Sunday clothes, he put his arm around my mother and I.

            No, I thought. Get him away from me!

They took me to church, where the preacher droned on and on for two hours. The hymnbook served as entertainment for me as he talked. Flipping through it, I looked at all the songs and the notes. It was strange how  a little book could carry so much value.

            "Our mass is ended." The Preacher announced.

            Yes! The four most miraculous words in the whole mass were they. Of course, when folks stopped after mass to converse, was my least favorite. It's not a very pleasant experience to have one's most favorite moment followed by their most hated moment.

            I followed shyly behind my parents as my father put his arm around my mother. She looked happy. She LOOKED happy. Se pretended as if he hadn't slapped her. I don't understand, how can you love someone that has hurt you so much? All of the ladies and men turned to look at us. I felt like a freak show. Look! It's Vanessa, the girl with an abusive father. This would make an interesting story.

            My father reached behind him. He held out his hand for me to hold. Yeah, right! That stupid bastard, I hate him. I'll hate him forever for doing this to my mother. I'll hate him with all of my heart for as long as I live. I put my hands behind me and looked away.

"Well, Miss Fiona. It seems as though you've got a bit scratched up." The preacher said, referring to her bruise.

"Oh, just an accident." She said lightly and attempted to cover the bruise with her hand.

"I do hope so." He said walking away. She smiled and took her hand away.

But mama was proud and she stood her ground

But she knew she was on the losin' end.

Some folks whispered, some folks talked

But everybody looked the other way.

And when time ran out there was no one about

On Independence Day.

            Dad was gone for two hours that night. I lay in my bed, listening to the fireworks. The red lights flashed through my window and made me feel warm. But, no matter what I did, I couldn't feel safe. I kept waiting for my father. I knew he was going to come in after hours of drinking. Mama came into my room, sitting by my bed.

"They are beautiful aren't they?" she asked me.

"Yeah." I said weakly.

"You know, there was a song your godmother used to sing on Independence Day."

"Moonbay?"

"Yes."

            She closed her eyes, as if she was letting all of the memories drift back into her.

Let freedom ring, let the white dove sing

Let the whole world know that today is a

Day of reckoning

Let the weak be strong, let the right be wrong

Roll the stone away, Let the guilty pay, It's

Independence Day.

            She sung me to sleep, that world of abuse left me and I was in a dream with Moonbay and Irvine, my mysterious godparents. They treated me like their real daughter. They gave me ice cream and pie all I wanted and we played all day.

"Damn you, Fiona!" the yelling pounded in my ears.

"Van, please, you'll wake up Vanessa."  Glass broke and a loud thump was what I heard.

"Vanessa wanted to go see the fireworks." Said mama sadly. Her voice was thick with tears. "Why can't you grant your child that one wish?"

"Leave the girl out of this!"

"No, Van! You've never been a father to her. All you care about is your damn whiskey!" she screamed.

"Fine! You want fireworks, I'll give you fireworks!" he roared. I heard a closet open and a box fall.

"Van, no! Please, don't!"

A gunshot rang within the house. It echoed from the bathroom to the gun. I heard a thump. I closed my eyes and covered my body with my blanket. He's going to come after me next, I thought. He's going to shoot me.

"Oh my God." I heard him say. "Fiona, Fiona? Are you alright?"

            I would've laughed at his stupidity. Who would be all right after being shot with a gun? That is, if I weren't so damn scared he would shoot me next. I trembled underneath the blankets. I longed to hear the sirens of the police.

            My father ran around the house in a panic. He went into my room. No, he's going to shoot me next, I thought.


"Vanessa? Vanessa?" I curled up tightly and pretended to be asleep. Maybe he won't shoot me if he thinks I'm asleep.

He cradled me in his arms. "Sweetheart, I want you to run." I sat up.

"Where are you going?" I demanded.

"Your mom and I, well, we're going away." He said quietly.

"Where?"

"Somewhere far away. I want you to run and find Irvine or Moonbay. I want you to tell them what happened." He said, tears were running down his face.

"Daddy…"

"Sweetheart, you run. You run with the wind. You run until you can't run anymore. I want you to run and find Moonbay and Irvine."

"Okay." I wasn't sure what he was talking about, except that I had to find Irvine and Moonbay.

He gave me something in a leather case.

"This is a hatchet. If you run into trouble, I want you to use this." He said.

I nodded. What the hell is a hatchet?

He boosted me through the window. I don't know why, but I felt a deep admiration for my father, even if he had shot my mother.

"Run, Vanessa!" he yelled. And the, I ran.

I ran out of town, I ran into the desert. Once, I looked back and saw our house ablaze. I ran still with tears in my eyes, still clutching the hatchet. My lungs ached and there was nothing in front of me then hills and piles of sandy desert.

            Collapsing on the ground, my chest heaved. I looked at the sky and smiled. The stars blinked magnificently and seemed to be winking at me. As if they were wishing me good luck. I would find Moonbay and Irvine. And then, we'd eat pie and ice cream. But for now, it was still Independence Day and I was watching the fireworks in the sky.

Let freedom Ring, let the white dove sing

Let the whole world know that today is a

Day of Reckoning

Let the weak be strong, let the right be wrong.

Roll the stone away, Let the guilty pay, It's

Independence Day

Roll the Stone away

It's Independence Day.