Chapter 12

I ran away from Piero's house, glancing repeatedly behind me to see if he was following. He wasn't, and I eventually slowed to a walk, panting and with adrenaline rushing through me. My head throbbed and I reached up to wipe tears from my eyes. I walked until I reached a shopping center and went into a café for an early lunch. Thoughts and spoken phrases whirled around together in my head, and I tried to push them away. I didn't want to think. I wanted to relax and calm down for a while before I even attempted to disassemble the chaos in my mind. After lunch I hailed a taxi and was driven home, but I quickly ducked into my clearing in the woods instead of going to the house.

I went and sat heavily on my bench, sighing. The forest was serene and welcoming, and I took off my shoes and tucked my feet under me. I began to cry, burying my head in my arms. As the tears flowed down my cheeks, so did some of the frustration at the situation.

I cried like a little child until I felt ready to think and figure things out. Then I calmly sat on the bench looking around me at the quiet forest and breathing slowly in and out.

I had been convincing myself that I couldn't tell Piero anything, that it would be better for him not to get involved. But he was already pretty involved, wasn't he? And the words he spoke to me sounded right, that everyone needs a confidant and that he can handle knowing my problems.

So who was right?

I pondered this for a while, playing tug-of-war between my own thoughts and Piero's, but I couldn't reach a conclusion.

What would I tell Piero now? I didn't know.

I had built up a wall in front of myself not for the purpose of shielding myself, but for shielding others from my problems. Was it possible for me to dismantle the wall now? Was it right for me to dismantle it at all, or let it be dismantled by Piero?

I was confused, and I didn't know what to believe.

I started to list some facts that I did know, one by one. They were painful, but I forced myself to acknowledge them.

Here I am not loved.

My mother isn't there for me.

Here I am not safe.

I need a way to protect myself from Ray.

If I stay out late until he falls asleep, I am safe from an attack.

Alright then, I'll stay out late tonight. Then I'll try to make another arrangement.

I got up from the clearing and quietly went to my car, and left the driveway. I went to the library, and the beach, and the store, and my café, and stayed out all day until midnight, when I was exhausted and wanted to sleep. Though it was too early to go inside, I returned home and went to the clearing. It was very dark, but I found the path and the clearing by the light of the moon. I sat on my bench and quietly began to wait for time to pass.

I watched the moon, which was a slim crescent in the ebony sky, but still bright enough to outweigh the twinkling stars scattered around it.

I began to think about Piero, not about his plea to let him help me, but about his playfulness, handsomeness, his genuine concern for me. I loved the way he sang all the time, the merriment in his eyes and his grin, the gentle way he touched me…

As I thought, watching the moon slowly move across the sky, I pulled my feet up on the bench and leaned against the arm to wait.

As time passed, my head began to get heavy, and my eyes started to close…

I woke early on Sunday morning to the light of the sunrise and the chattering of birds around me. Confused, I pushed myself abruptly into a sitting position and looked wildly about me. I was in the clearing. The clearing!? I slept in the clearing!?

I winced at the ache in my back from sleeping on the wood of the bench. Goodness, did I really sleep on a bench!?

I really slept on a bench.

I kneaded my back with my thumbs and lowered my feet to the hard ground.

But…I was safe, wasn't I? I had slept the whole night with an unusual sense of peace. I knew that here in my clearing, Ray wouldn't find me. But oh, I wanted to be in my bed!

Then realization came to me, and I listed another fact on my fingers. The only way to sleep in my own bed was to stay out until Ray was asleep.

I put my head in my hands in despair.

That was impossible! I couldn't stay up that late every night and be able to function the next day! I couldn't live my life in complete exhaustion!

But then if staying up so late every night wasn't an option, what was?

Staying in the clearing?

I sighed and put my head in my hands.

Sleeping on the bench every night!? That didn't sound good…or healthy. But…it was safe here, wasn't it?
So what's the plan?

My old system of staying away only on weekends had been completely demolished now that Ray was drunk every day. Staying up so late at night wasn't an option. It was time to try something different. Even if it was only temporary, a new arrangement had to be made.

I got up and paced back and forth through the clearing, quietly formulating a new plan. After a few minutes of quiet contemplation, I walked through the forest to my house, sneaking up to the window to peer in. Ray wasn't in the living room. I went to the kitchen and saw that he wasn't there either. He must be in the bedroom or bathroom. I took my keys from my pocket and unlocked the door as quietly as I could. I went to the pantry and took some food for breakfast. Then I snuck into the garage and rummaged around until I discovered the huge bag I was looking for. I lugged it, straining and grunting, back through the house and down the forest trail, heaving it into the clearing and sitting on the bench to catch my breath and have breakfast. I rubbed my complaining back as I read a page of directions from the bag. When I finished eating, I got down on my hands and knees and began to set up my tent.

After a long while of wrestling with random poles and piles of fabric, I had the tent properly set up. I snuck to my bedroom and found my sleeping bag and pillow and brought them to the tent.

After I was pleased with my arrangement, I stored my food in the tent and went to my car. I left the house and decided to go to the hospital to occupy my time. As I visited my children, I struggled with my thoughts, hearing Piero's words over and over again but reaching no conclusions that would calm my confusion.

The constant reasoning paired with my work at the hospital tired me out quickly, and as soon as it got dark I returned home. I ducked into my clearing and took a box of granola bars from the tent, going to the bench and gazing up at the moon as I ate. It was still a small sliver of a crescent, pretty, but its dim light barely allowed me to see the forest around me.

Piero had sung about the moon, on the beach and another night in his house. How did it go?

"La luna hizo esto…la la lalala la la…"

I giggled. If only he could be here with me to sing it! I looked up at the moon and wracked my brains to produce the lyrics, but I couldn't remember any more of them. I wondered what Piero had thought about me running out of his house yesterday morning. Maybe he was confused. Well, that makes two of us. Maybe he thought I was crazy. Maybe he understood my fear and felt sad for me. That sounded the most likely. I wondered if he had eventually gone after me.

An owl hooted from close by and I jumped and looked around. I slowly retreated into the dark tent and curled up on top of my sleeping bag. This wasn't so bad, was it? Sleeping in a tent. I wished I had my pajamas, but I could hear the shatter of breaking glass when I had been close to the house. Too risky to go in. Who knows what would be going on right now if I had entered the house? I shuddered. I knew.

I wonder if my mom knew I wasn't in the house, I wonder if she was worried. I should make sure she saw me before she left for work the next day, so she would know I was still here for her.

I rolled onto my side and hugged the pillow. The June air was hot, the forest floor was uncomfortable, and the sleeping back was bothersome. I sighed and looked at the canvas wall before me.

The owl hooted again, and I closed my eyes. No, I'm fine. No one knows about the clearing but me. I'm safe. The owl called again, and the tress rustled, casting jerking shadows on the walls of the tent.

I gripped my pillow and began to sing softly, "Where do I begin…to tell the story of how great a love can be…?"