ANONYMOUS
MINDEN, LA
SEPTEMBER 1986
I am making a dandelion wreath.
There are so many out here.
I’ve picked them up from my yard, where they are embedded around Juno’s parked car. It took me two hours to do so, and I consider the task to be very well worth it. The stalks are extremely thick and strong, good for a strong base. I braid them together. Blood drips down my nose and stains the collar of my button down shirt, which has become faded over the years from constant wear and tear. But that’s what clothes are for, right? With my sleeve, I dab at my face to stop the bleeding, which is leaking through my fingers.
It is a very hot, but lovely day. And it is such a shame that we cannot sit out on the porch with a cool glass of lemonade and enjoy the weather. Sweat drips down my chin and lands on my collarbones, mingling with the dried blood already escaping down my throbbing nose. I lick my dried lips as I carry my wreath back into the darkened house and silently shut the door. It is so warm that my button down shirt and jeans are glued to my skin.
Juno is sitting at the foot of the stairs. A few feet away from her lies a shattered vase, which I plan to sweep up with a broom. Moments before, it had collided with my face. As a result, her left bare foot has been shackled to the end of a long chain, which allows her to access the bathroom and the kitchen, if she ever needed either of them. I really didn’t want to do this, but it was the only way to calm her. She wouldn’t stop screaming and hitting at me again, now she is in hiccups. But I understand that I must be patient. At the sound of the door closing, she immediately jumps to her feet, shivering.
“I got a present for you,” I gently say.
Juno’s face contorts as she begins to viciously yank at the chain. The way her hands are digging into the shackles, it looks like she’s planning to tear her foot off. As I rush forward and pry her hands free, this seems to infuriate her more, and as she’s beating down upon me, I roughly grab her arms. A fierce look flashes across her dark eyes—I think I see Mama’s for a moment. They are blacker than the night sky.
“Stop it,” I scream. “Stop it, will ya?”
Startled, she stares at me.
”Stop hurting yourself,” I whisper. “Please.”
Juno grits her teeth and attempts to loosen the shackle. The skin has loosened up, bloody and torn. I can see how it peels.
My breaths are heavy as I grip my hands around her wrists, tight, but not too much to cause harm. “Let me take it off.”
She tries to tug away from me.
“I…have a surprise.” A weak smile falls across my scabbed lips. Strands of hair are clinging to my bloodied nose, which she may try to break again. “See, I got you a present, love. See, look.” My wandering hand picks up the wreath on the ground. I place it on top of her head. “I would like to give you a present. That’s all.”
Juno’s teeth chatter. She tries to yank her arms free from me, but I hold them tight. When she starts kicking me, I have to pin her down against the railing as her right bare foot slams against my ribcage. It hurts, but not as much as the expression on her face.
Her mouth twists and turns as a glob of her saliva sprays onto my face. It dribbles down my nose, but I hardly flinch. Mama did this all the time. It is evident my reaction only further infuriated her, as she begins to struggle. As I wipe it off with my sleeve, my grip tightens.
”Let me go,” she cries.
”I will,” I reply. “But you got to calm down. You think I got you here for all the wrong reasons. But I don’t, Juno.” I speak real soft. “I ain’t mean to yell at you, alright? You gonna hurt yourself real bad, and I can’t stand by and let you do it to yourself.”
“I said to let me go, you psychopath.”
Her words sting. “Look, I don’t….” It came out of me in a quiet whisper. “I don’t want to send you back to the basement. Can’t have you banging on the door non-stop. You have been very rude to me today.” I faintly smile again, then chuckle, shaking my head to and fro. I’m only teasing her, as I want her to lighten up. The old man who lays down there is a threat against our family. She must leave him behind; forget his name. He is nothing but a memory. “The basement is a very strange place, ain’t it? I know you don’t like it.”
For a moment, Juno is silent. I hold my breath. Will I finally be able to trust her so that I won’t have to restrain her here? But her next words destroy what remaining hope I had.
“I have to go to work,” she says in a shaky voice for the millionth time, eyeing the door. Her stomach was quite upset last night, so she should be thinking about resting after all that vomiting she did. Not working. There are bags under her eyes. I made her some chamomile tea this morning, but all she did was dump it on the floor and throw the cup at me. I’ll try to get her to eat something later.
“My shift starts today.”
”I know,” I whisper, a chill running down my spine. I am still very proud of her for finding a job, even though it is now useless in the grand scheme of things. I smile. “You have been saying that for a very long time.”
“My boss is expecting me to come in.”
”Let them keep expecting.”
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Hatred fills her dark eyes. She is mostly still upset at me for destroying her phone. But I can’t have that around her.
“Oh, love. You won’t need to work for a dime.” With a sigh, I release her and stand up. I love the way the wreath looks in her hair, how the sunlight falls on her curls. Hasn’t she realized by now I can take care of her? “I have my huntin’ gun. There’s plenty of game nearby in these woods, so you’ll never be hungry. And you can give me a list of what you want. I can go right down to the supermarket, get you ice cream, candy, soda—if you in the mood for those things. Anything you want. You just tell me.”
Devastation falls upon her tear stained face. “Please, just let me and my boy out of here.”
My smile slightly falters. How does she want to leave so soon? She is my family. I wish I could leave every wall, floorboard, and brick behind, too. But I never can. My soul is forever tied to this place, in bondage with its very foundation. I know I am attached to this house. I dig my nails into the fabric of my jeans. Rush is taking a nap at the moment, sleeping peacefully in his cradle. I can’t leave. She makes this house a home, and that is the first time anyone in my family has done so.
Juno pushes away at me.
I warmly smile at her, before removing the shackle around her bare ankle. It clanks loudly against the rotting wooden steps.
”If you calm down, I can show you my garden,” I say. “It’s closer to the edge of the woods. I also hunt and fish there, too.”
Juno is shaking. She is still wearing her vomit stained nightgown, which stops just below her knees. I have clean clothes for her. Even as I help her stand up in the shadows, I can see how frail she is becoming—she is becoming dangerously underweight. She goes over to Rush’s crib, picks up the sleeping infant, holding him for a while. When she sets him down, I know that the wheels at the back of her head are spinning. They shall continue to endlessly spin. I drum both of my hands against the table. I wish we could do something fun together today, like play a board game or garden, but it’s not going to happen. At least, not for the time being.
Like a lost child, she wanders in the living room in a daze.
“Hey, love,” I softly say.
She avoids my gaze.
“I brought a huge tin of oatmeal a while back. If you sit down, I can whip you up some. There’s also some canned peaches. I know you haven’t been feeling well, but you got to get a little bit down.” I begin to rummage through the cabinets in the kitchen. “And maybe we can talk more about your job.”
Juno begins to bite her nails.
I look down at the ground. This is not good. If she is too distraught to eat, that means that the baby won’t get the nourishment he needs from her. I hold her hand, which she lets me take, and guide her to the window. When I pry it open after struggling for a moment, fresh air leaks in. A cool breeze settles in over the living room, a relief to the sweaty layer that has settled over my skin.
As I pull up a chair for her, she eyes the basement door, which is closed. I drag the busted stool from the kitchen next to her, avoiding the rays of sunlight spilling through the smashed glass. She doesn’t sit down, just continues to shiver. One of the petals from the dandelions breaks off and falls onto the floorboards. Beneath them lies many who have tried to threaten my family—threaten us. They are nothing but dust under my bare feet.
“Do you like your present?” I quietly ask.
She gives me a blank look, before bolting towards the cradle as fast as she could.
It amazes me how ungrateful people can be.
My fingers delicately wrap around the cartridge box sitting on the table. I watch her run, watch her rip out what remained left of my soul. I watch her behind the strands of hair hanging over my face, each one knotted and twisted and crawling over my skin like snakes. I watch her as the fire builds up inside my lungs, and I grit my teeth until my gums are bleeding and sore and ripe.
I select a cartridge.
There is a muffled cry, and I slowly smile as I make my way over to where Rush is laying in his cradle. Her son’s arms are out, his face pink, but I pick him up and caress him in my arms until he calms down. The house is still. My console is glowing orange, green on the table. Fortunately, Rush is unharmed, and he gurgles as I bounce him up and down. This sweet boy is hungry, so I prepare a large bottle for him with three scoops of formula.
While I wait for his meal to heat up, I sit down on the stool in front of the window. My face is still stinging. The thick crust on my bloodied nose is starting to irritate me. I do not look at my game console or my joystick. The fire inside of me is blazing like a coal.
I smile. I expected this, but it still deeply stings. I am so very disappointed in her, but I have faith that she shall learn in due time. We all must learn and grow. She will understand how much I love her. I love her more than she loves herself. Many people have a distinct learning style, with trial and error. One day, she will understand that she is all I have. We are family, after all. My house has no place for such ungratefulness, such coldness. I eliminated it twenty five years before.
I am lonely here without her.
But she shall return. Taking a deep breath, I gaze at the dandelion wreath flattened on the floor. It has been trampled on by her feet. I should try daisies next time. Or roses.
* * * * * * * *
My fingers shake as I light a match and drop it on a pile of rubbish, dried grass, and twigs. It is midnight, and Juno has not yet entered my world. I can’t sleep, even though I’ve already cleaned up Rush and put him to bed. I shall know when she has proven herself enough to enter my own reality, where we can eat peanut butter sandwiches, drink tea, and count the stars. Where we can be, not enemies, but friends. Family. But her broken down car remains with me, still hidden, trapped behind the thick, gnarled weeds. It is a good couple of yards in front of my house.
You psychopath.
My shadow falls upon it.
On the porch, my clothing lays discarded on steps. The cold night air causes goosebumps to rise above my skin, but sweat pours down my naked body. The dandelion wreath sits on top of my head, leaves stuck in my tangled hair, which hangs past my shoulders. I turn and face my house, where the windows are dark and empty. I hold out my arms, as the wind blows my dirty hair from my face. The towering strands of grass brushes against my hips and buttocks, the countless scars on my back. It touches each bruised, protruding rib.
Show me your face. Or are you too scared to do that? Come out in the light so I can see you, you animal.
You animal.
Nobody loves you.
You don’t deserve to cry.
You ain’t put no value in no one’s life.
Orange, yellow flames latch onto the vehicle, before consuming the seats and melting rubber of the tires. The smoke is faint as first, before growing stronger until it is completely engulfed. The heat presses against my back, but I keep my gaze on my house as the fire rages on and on. But I don’t turn around. I smile and begin to dance amongst the golden grass, sweat and water pouring down my face.