walls

Walls by Amanda Stogsdill

Crash! In their room, Christy and Logan awaken, eyes wide. As the angry voices drift to them, both cover their ears. Not this again! Next, the house shakes with a slamming of a door, followed by the roar of a truck's motor.

The house is accustomed to this uproar, its walls would have cried if they had been able to. Patched holes, damaged doors, and askew pictures, are evidence of Father's anger.

*****

"Christy, what's the capital of New York?" The teacher waited, expecting an answer. Silence. Christy slouched in her seat, far away. Will Mom be okay when we get home? She was thinking. What will Father do later on?

"Miss Abbott, it's Rhode Island!" A boy answered without raising his hand.

"Incorrect. Christy?"

"Albany!" She raised her hand.

"Yes. Remember, this upcoming test is very important."

"Is it multiple choice?" Rhianna asked. (She hated tests, and often begged Christy for help.) Ms. Abbott shook her head. "Make sure you study."

In the noisy cafeteria, Christy’s cheerful wall was up. She smiled, talking of this and that, her friends none the wiser. She even whistled at a boy she sort of liked. Dumping their trays, she and Rhianna headed to recess.

*******

The shrill blast of the whistle made Logan sprint across the gym with the others. Their pounding feet mingled with sweaty bodies, pushed him forward. Panting, he and another boy touched the wall first, then sprinted back to their teacher. "Great, you two. The rest of you, five more." The class groaned, but obeyed when the teacher threatened to make it ten.

As they headed back to class, they compared times. "I almost beat you." Rhonda said, smirking.

"So what. Just because you're a girl." Logan replied.

On the bus, Christy stared out the window, halfheartedly joining in with her friends' chatter. Two seats back, Logan was happily joking with his friends. At their stop, with a screech, the bus pulled up outside their gate. Forcing a smile, Christy waved, then followed Logan into their house.

***** "Hey, Mom." Logan calls. Both he and his sister were relieved Father wasworking.

"Hey, kids. "In here." They find her in the kitchen, hands deep in meat loaf mixture. Her back to them, her bruises aren’t visible. Cheerfully, the kids tell her about their day. "What about you?" Logan perches on the counter.

"Oh, you know." Mom sighs, "Shopping, laundry. Boring stuff." Sliding the meat loaf into the oven, she scrubs her hands. Her bruises are visible now—the swollen lip, and black eye. "If you need help studying Christy, just ask."

Christy shrugs. "States and capitols are easy. Maybe later."

"Your father should be home soon. Wash up." Mom says, glancing anxiously at the clock.

In the bathroom, Christy scowls at the mirror. State capitols, really? And no mention of last night! And those bruises, no makeup can cover those!

"My dinner ready?" Dad bellows, slamming the door. His heavy footsteps thumps down the hall towards the kitchen. Pasting on a smile, Christy joins the family around the table.

As usual, their meal follows a strict routine. Father’s served first, followed by the kids, oldest first. Last is Mother. After dinner, plates are cleared, dessert is brought in—apple pie and ice cream. Dishes then bed afterward. The tense atmosphere makes the kitchen seem small somehow with the heavy silence hanging over the room. Their routine hasn't changed in years.

After a peaceful sleep, the family rise somewhat refreshed. A quiet breakfast, then the kids rush out the door.

**** "Party this weekend!" Rhianna whispered during math, "Just girls."

"Maybe." Christy mouthed. She doubted Father would allow her to go, but it was worth asking.

At lunch, she and Logan talked normally to their friends, about movies, teen gossip, and anything else they could think of. Logan was excited about the track tryouts, he boasted how fast he’d become.

***** "Father," Christy hesitantly asks during dinner, "Rhianna's having a party this weekend? May I go?"

Silence, except for the clinking of cutlery. "Maybe. How's your grades?"

"Great." She answers, knowing there was more to follow.

"Do we know this family? Will her parents be there?" Christy answers both questions with a nod, explaining her sister would supervise. "I'll think about it." Wiping his mouth, Father pushes his chair back. End of discussion.

As the party draws nearer, Christy wants an answer. Tonight, Father brings up the subject. "This party doesn't sound suitable. No parents, just girls. You're not going. Make any excuse to Rhianna that you can think of."

"James, let her go. She's nearly thirteen. Rhianna's older sister will be there." Mother cuts in. Beside Christy, Logan nods his support. Father bangs his fist down, signaling his decision. Like a gavel! Christy thinks bitterly.

The kids are awakened when another argument breaks out, this one worse than the last. After screaming and breaking of dishes, Father storms out. In her room, the walls hear Mother's muffled sobs.

*****

“Not coming." Christy passed the note during science, "Next time." A frown was the response.

In history, the class was paired up, quizzing each other. Christy aced the questions, mainly because her partner didn’t mix them up.

**** Over the weekend, a peace settles over the house. Logan, Christy, and Mother stay out of Father's way whenever possible. Sneaking a phone call when Father is out, Christy learns from Rhianna that her sister had brought beer to the party.

"Really?" Christy’s envious. "Wish I was there." She groans. Sighing, she hears the loud music and shrieks on Rhianna's end.

"I hear boys, so admit it." Christy accuses playfully. Her friend just laughed.

"Who were you talking to?" Father's voice suddenly  growls.

Gasping, Christy spins round. "Just a friend, girl stuff." She makes eye contact, hoping he believes her. With a curt nod, he slams her door.

**** "May I speak with you, Christy?" Ms. Abbott sat at a student's desk, facing her. "Are you all right? You seem distracted."

"Yes, Miss Abbott. I'm studying for the history test."

"That's not what I'm concerned about. How are things at home?" Ms. Abbott's eyes remained fixed on Christy.

"Fine!" She answered, smiling brightly. Wall of cheerfulness, ready to go!

"Okay." The teacher frowned, still not convinced. "Remember, you can tell me anything."

On the bus that afternoon, Christy and Logan sat together, absorbed in their own thoughts. How much more? When will this nightmare end? Logan was thinking when, if the time came, would he be able to run fast enough to escape?

"Hello, earth to Logan." His friend tapped his shoulder impatiently. "You coming?"

"Yeah, sure." He answered, turning around.

****** "Where are you going?" Christy whispers later. They are stretched out on Logan's bed.

"Paul's Dad is taking a bunch of us camping this weekend. Should be fun."

"Good luck." Both know it’s a long shot asking Father's permission, but feel they have to try.

"Absolutely not!" Father storms, hands clenched on the table. "You know every weekend is family time." Chores, he meant. Scowling, Christy and Logan clear the table.

"Sorry he's in one of his moods." Mother whispers softly. As always, the walls witness this exchange. If they could speak, they'd wonder, "All parents won't let their kids socialize with friends sometimes. What's the big deal?"

***** Christy's wall came up the next weekend. Father allowed her to sleep over at a friend's house. One of her best weekends ever, Christy made it last as long as possible. Pizza, Truth or Dare, giggling about nothing—it was all perfect! Her friend's family was everything she wished her family could be.

Logan spent that weekend outside. He was training to be on the track team next year. He ran everywhere, all over his neighborhood. Lungs bursting, chest heaving, he sprinted for long stretches at a time. Out of that horrible house, he could breathe more easily.

Things come to a head next Saturday night. While listening to music in their room, the kids hear an explosion of rage which quickly spirals out of control. Father's insults and blows sprays the walls, each louder than the last. Mother's cries are muffled at first, but soon grow louder, filled with desperation. The walls can't keep those ugly sounds in. Her pleas and father's blows pour into the hall and remain there, spreading out like glue, sticking to everything they touch.

Something inside Christy snaps; she has to act! She's had enough. Springing up, with Logan beside her she lifts the receiver. "Help!" She screams into the telephone, "He's killing Mother!" After some careful questions, the dispatcher sends the police and ambulance to their address. Christy remains on the line, willing them to hurry. Logan sobs, listening to Mother's painful cries. At the approaching sirens, the children clutch each other in relief.

The walls reverberate with unfamiliar sounds—people talking to Mother, police questioning father and the children, mother being loaded into the back of an ambulance.

***** At the hospital, Father and the frightened children sat in the waiting room. As doctors and nurses bustled around them, the children wondered what was happening to mother. Father paced around the dismal room, not speaking. After an intense hour had passed, a doctor appeared and spoke to Father. "What did he say?" Christy asked, face filled with worry.

"Mother's going to be okay. She'll be able to leave in a couple days." Christy and Logan stared in horror at Father. That was it? After all the fighting and covered bruises, a lousy couple days in the hospital was all mother was going to receive?

***** In Mother’s room, the white walls observe an unusual conversation. "Mrs. Dayton, you have injuries which appear recent. The doctors have also noticed older injuries. How did you get them?" A social worker inquires. Facing the wall, Mother doesn't respond to the social worker's gentle questioning. "I'll come back later. Your children are particularly anxious to see you."

This brings a response. Smiling slightly, Mother speaks to her kids. Squeezing their hands, Mother pulls them close. "I don't want him in here." She whispers to Christy. Nodding, Logan rushes out to the waiting room. Fuming, Father storms out, eyes blazing. A passing nurse observes that with a shake of her head. This scene is all too familiar to her. The wife will return to her husband, and more hospital visits will follow.

**** The next few days were filled with social workers and police, questioning the kids and mother. Staying with friends, Christy and Logan felt they were able to breathe. Christy’s wall came tumbling down when a policeman gently asked about that horrible night. Crying, she and Logan explained how Father enforced strict rules, controlling Mother’s every move. Logan was always afraid he’d come after them! “I hated Father, but always felt powerless to stop him!” Christy admitted. In school, teachers were kind, telling them they could make up assignments later, including the history test.

****

Outside a small house, fresh snow blankets the yard. Inside, it’s cozy, with a tree, presents, and company. These walls hear laughter and excited talk.

Several months have passed since that 911 call. Supportive friends have come through, offering shelter. The family’s now living in a rented house, still in their old neighborhood. Without Father in their lives, Christy and Logan are slowly adjusting to their new normal.

"Come eat." Mom calls. The hungry group races into the kitchen, all talking at once. Surrounded by their smiling friends, Christy and her family are very happy. Everything is finally perfect!

The End