Six Going on Seven, Chapter 6 ~ Out of Reach, part 2

Noah stood in the doorway, mouth open as if to speak, but his words were frozen by the sight of Sam hastily yanking his pants up and fumbling with the zipper.  Elly took a breath and remained visible.

“What . . . the fuck . . . ” Noah found his voice.

“It’s not what you think,” Sam rushed unconvincingly, looking away.  “I . . . .”

Noah glanced over his shoulder, then let the door clap shut behind him.  The shock seemed to leave him, as if a switch was flipped and he knew exactly what to do in this situation.  He crossed the room in a few long strides, and Sam shrank back.

“He spilled beer on his pants.”  Elly pointed.  “That’s all.”  She hoped Noah wouldn’t make a big deal out of what had happened; it wasn’t like she hadn’t been handling it just fine herself.  She could have gotten her hand away, and turned invisible, she was sure.

“Yeah!”  Sam latched onto her explanation eagerly, looking down at the beer stain.  “And . . . .”

“Shut up and sit down.”  Noah pointed at him menacingly; Sam fell back onto the stool and clamped his mouth shut, eyes shifting between Elly and his brother.

Noah turned to Elly.  “Hey—” he leaned over with that smile adults used when they thought her age made her brain-dead.  “Are you okay?  Did he scare you?”

“I don’t scare,” she replied, gazing up at him without blinking.

Confusion for a moment, then, “Oh.  Well, good . . . .”

“Noah—”

“Shut the fuck up, you moron!”  Noah twisted around to glare at his brother.

Sam squirmed.  “But—”

Noah covered the distance between them and grabbed him by the front of his shirt.  “I know what you were doing, you horny little shit.  I’m not stupid.”  Noah gave him a shake, lifting him off the stool.  Sam looked very young and skinny, just a little kid, next to his big older brother, and Elly almost felt sorry for him.  Almost.

“I’m sorry!”  Sam grasped at Noah’s hands as he lifted him higher up.

“You’re gonna be!  I am sick of fixing up after you!”

“Noah, c’mon,” whined Sam, “it’s not that, I wasn’t . . . I spilled beer . . . .”

“Shut it.  What are you trying to do?  Break up the band?  Russ is our best hope to get anywhere and I’m not letting you fuck that up for us, you hear me?  Do you?”  Another shake.  “If he finds out you’ve been molesting his daughter I’m not sticking up for you, oh no, you’re going down all by yourself.”

“It was gonna be alright,” she murmured under her breath, scratching her neck as she looked at her feet.  She so hated a fuss, and neither of them were paying attention to her anymore, anyway.  She edged toward the door.

Noah dropped Sam onto the stool and turned to her.  “Um, uh, kid, wait a minute.”

“Elly.”

“Right.”  He smiled, too big, as he came back over by her.  “Sorry.”  He reached out to touch her shoulder but froze then pulled his hand back, as if touching her would be a grave mistake, under the circumstances.

I’m not that fragile, she thought to herself, but let only her affronted expression and little sniff do the talking for her.  He misinterpreted, and backed a step away.  “Can I go?” she sighed.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay.”  Noah crouched down so he could look her in the eyes, then thought better of it and coughed awkwardly as he fixed his eyes on the floor.

“I’m fine.”

“Good.  And . . . I know you’re a little, you know, shook up about this—”

“No I’m not,” she insisted, frowning.

“Great!  That’s great.  Anyway, I’ll take care of Sam here; I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you again.”  He made himself look back up at her.  “So . . . I mean . . . the thing is . . . do you want your dad to be really, really angry?”

“Of course not.”

“Yeah. Well, if he knows that Sam was . . . well, uh, being naughty, he’ll get so mad he’ll do something like, I dunno, kill Sam, and then he’ll have to go to jail for that, and you don’t want any of that to happen, right?”

“You don’t want me to tell anyone,” Elly summed it up for him, crossing her arms.

“Right!”  He smiled with relief.  “Sam’s my responsibility, see, and if anyone else gets mad at him it just makes things complicated, you know?  Well, anyway, you’re a great kid . . . you’re really handling this great.  So I know you want to go; you go on and don’t worry about Sam at all.”

Elly looked over to Sam, who watched them with a sulking glare.  “Are you going to beat him up?”

Noah paused for a beat, then forced out a laugh.  “Nah.  I’m just gonna give him a talking to.”  Sam’s scowl deepened.

Elly shrugged and continued on her way to the door, grabbing her backpack off the floor.  She paused and glanced back in the doorway; Noah loomed over Sam with his arms crossed, speaking in a low voice.  Sam gripped the edge of the stool and studied the floor morosely, then Noah reached out one hand as if to smack him.  Sam cringed, and Elly turned away.  She let the door slam shut and stumbled out onto the pathway, standing still for a moment in the sudden fresh air and sunlight, not knowing what to think or feel.

What Sam had wanted her to do felt very wrong, and keeping it a secret from her parents didn’t seem right . . . yet the thought of explaining the situation to them made her flush with embarrassment.  She shook her head.  Sam was suffering enough, there wasn’t any need to make a huge deal out of it, and she knew that’s what her parents would do.  Suffering.  She started walking towards the house.  She didn’t like that either; Noah could be scary when he wanted to be.

She didn’t like to think about it.  She didn’t want to think about it.  She shoved it out of her mind.

She climbed the steps to the side door and pushed it open, slipping into the kitchen.  TV sounds came from the living room, and she went to see who was watching.  Jake and Kiki relaxed on the sofa, Kiki seated sideways with her feet up on Jake’s lap and pillows tucked behind her back.  She wasn’t watching the TV, instead reading a book propped up on her belly.  There was no sign of Mom or the boys.  Elly stood in the kitchen doorway silently for a few moments; Jake saw her first.

“Hey, kid.”  He started in surprise, “where’d you come from?”

She blinked, then gave him her customary answer; “Mars.”  She glanced around the room once more.  “Where is my Mom?  And Eric and Marc?”

“She just left to pick you up from school, sweetie,” said Kiki with her absent smile, “and took your brothers with her.”

“Yeah, she was freaking out because she realized she was late.  How’d you get home, anyway?” Jake asked.

“I walked, but . . . she usually picks me up after she’s done at work . . . .”  Elly looked between them in confusion.

“Jake—” Kiki nudged him with her feet “—you should call Liseli up on her cell and tell her that Elly came home, otherwise she’ll really freak when she gets to the school.”

“I guess.”  He shrugged, reaching over for the remote to mute the TV.  Elly knew how to use the phone and could call her mother herself, but at that moment she didn’t feel like it, silently watching Jake move Kiki’s feet aside and climb out of the sunken sofa cushions.  Let him talk to Mom.

As Jake walked past her into the kitchen he said, “You walked all the way home by yourself, huh?”

“Yes.”  Elly tilted her chin up and added, “It was fun.  I didn’t mind that Mom didn’t come.”

Jake shook his head.  “Your mom is going nuts, kid.  She didn’t even go to work today; we came over to see if your dad was here, and she was, well . . . .  Anyway, then she and Noah got in a fight so she forgot what time it was and then she went berserk when she realized she’d left you at school.”  He kept shaking his head.  “Your d . . . well . . . nevermind.”  He picked up the phone, but Elly could guess what he’d been about to say.  Your dad better get home quick.

She let it go unsaid, and latched her interest on; “A fight?  They were fighting?”

“Uh, yeah.”  He began to dial.

“Why?”

“It’s no big deal.”

“Jake!”

“Noah just thinks we should call the police about your dad.”  He tried to say it nonchalantly, holding the phone up against his ear as it rang.  “And your mom flipped at the idea . . . .  Hey, Liseli, yeah, it’s Jake.  Yeah.  She’s right here, she got tired of waiting for you and walked home.”  He lowered the phone.  “She wants to talk to you.”

Elly took the phone from him.  “Are we gonna have to call the police to look for Daddy?” she asked into it.

“What?” Mom’s surprised, strained, voice came through.  “Have you been talking to Noah?  Don’t listen to him, he thinks I buried Dad in the back yard or something.  I mean . . . I probably shouldn’t have said that, just don’t think about it, okay?  I’m so so sorry I forgot to come get you on time, you should have called from school, I don’t want you ever walking home by yourself, do you hear me?”

Elly waited patiently for the torrent of words to stop.  “Mm-hm.”

“Okay, I’m coming home.  And don’t listen to anything those guys say, alright?”

“I won’t.”

“Okay, bye-bye Elly, I’m so sorry, I lo—”

“Bye.”  Elly hung up.  She looked at Jake.  “Do you want to call the police?”

He shrugged.  “Couldn’t hurt.  I guess.  But I’m sure . . . I’m sure he’s okay.”

She nodded thoughtfully.  “Do you want some peanut butter and jelly?”

“Huh?”  He had been frowning to himself, as if wondering how sure he really was that Dad was okay.

“I’m going to make myself a sandwich, do you want one too, Uncle Jake?”

“Er, no thanks.”  He paused.  “You can make one for Kiki though.  She’s always hungry these days.”

Elly nodded, pulling a chair out and sliding it over to the cupboards so she could reach the one with the peanut butter in it.  “When is she gonna to have the baby?”

“Next month.”

“When are you gonna to marry her?”

“Uh . . . .”

“You are gonna get married, right?”

He laughed.  “I dunno, kiddo, um, that’s . . . between me and Kiki, y’know?  But, uh, I’ll tell you if anything happens.”

Peanut butter in hand, Elly shut the cupboard door and climbed down from the chair.  “If you do get married can I be the flower girl?”

“I’ll have to think about it.”  He crossed his arms, looking to the doorway as if he wanted to escape.

“Can you get me the bread off the top of the fridge?”

“No prob.”  Jake was tall (not as tall as Dad though) and easily plucked the bag of whole wheat bread from the basket way at the top of the highest surface in the kitchen.  Mom herself had to stand on her tiptoes and reach.

“Thanks.  I think you should get married.  It would make Kiki a ‘respectable woman.’”  Elly smiled benignly, loosely quoting something she’d overheard Mom’s friend Margaret say on Sunday.  Mom had replied that she thought Kiki would be better off not living with Jake under any circumstance, but Elly liked them together and thought for once that Margaret was right.

Jake frowned, as if trying to decide whether or not to laugh her off as a dumb little kid.  “Right.  I’m going to go back and . . . watch TV,” he said, backing away.

“Okay.”  Elly smiled.  When he was gone, her thoughts drifted back to Sam and Noah in the garage, then veered sharply away.

She got the grape jelly out of the fridge and a knife out of the drawer, then sat at the table putting together hers and Kiki’s sandwiches.  Dad still isn’t home.  She finally let the knowledge wash over her in disappointment.  Noah, Sam and Jake were all hanging around the house waiting for him, and Wes would probably show up after he was done for the day at his job, and Mom hadn’t even gone to her job . . . all of them waiting for Dad to come home.  She glanced at the phone and wondered if they really should call the police . . . but she knew, somehow, that it wouldn’t help.

She sighed again, looking down at the smears of tan and purple on the slices of bread.  There were so many things she didn’t understand, though she tried; all she knew was that Dad had gone somewhere out of Mom’s reach, out of Noah’s reach, out of the police’s reach, out of everyone’s reach.  Not hers, though, she was sure of it — if only she knew where he had gone and how, he would not be out of her reach, and that made not knowing that much harder.