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.My life.Notyours.Mine.489 The Shivered Skyby Matt DinnimanHe slapped her.Hard, right across the face, and it stunglike nothing she had ever felt before.She almost fell to herknees. You do not talk to me like that.I am your father.You maybe a high school graduate, but you live under my roof. Hewas right in her face, his finger jabbed into her chest.Shecould smell the garlic and oregano on his breath. Don't you touch me, Indigo said. Don't you touch meever again.He jabbed again, this time harder. I will have yourrespect.It was a simple maneuver.An upward swing of one hand,grabbing onto his wrist with the other.She had practiced it somany times it came as naturally as taking a breath.The snap of his finger breaking was impossibly loud.Indigopractically ripped it clean off.It bent grotesquely, extended sofar his nail met with the back of his hand.And, boy, did hescream.Mother did, too, and the crowd oo'd and ah'd andlaughed like they were watching a television show. Get him, Killer! someone yelled.Someone else threw anempty beer can, and it glanced off her shoulder.He was on his knees, holding his wrist, looking at his fingeras if it were a flower that had suddenly sprouted from hishand.Indigo pitied him then.She shouldn't have done it.Sheheld out her hand to help him up. You fucking bitch.Don't you help me. Come on, Dad.Father.I'm sorry.Let's get you to thehospital.490 The Shivered Skyby Matt DinnimanSavagely, growling with an incredible fury in his eyes, likesomething from the darkest shadows of hate, he ripped upwith his good hand, grabbed Indigo's gown, and pulled her tothe gravel next to him.His python arm wrapped around herneck. Stop it! her mother screamed. The both of you! You'remonsters, stop it! Shut up, Father said as he strangled her.She started tofight, ripping at him, seeking his exposed pressure points.Butbefore she landed a blow that was sure to force him to freeher, she stopped her struggle.For an instant, it was peaceful.Maybe, she thought after amoment, just maybe it was her time to die.The notion didn'tscare her.Not even a little.She just lay there.She closed her eyes and waited for theblack to descend. Jesus, Indigo, he whispered in her ear, his grip looseningslightly.But not enough. Don't stop.Don't stop fighting.Haven't I taught you anything? You can get out of this.Do it.I know you can.Do it.Suddenly, there was a loud smack, and his grip went awaytotally.Indigo flipped over, coughing.Her mother stood overthe both of them wielding the aluminum baseball bat Fatherkept in the backseat of the car.It glimmered like a scythe inthe night. Stop it! Mother yelled again, even though neither ofthem moved now.The crowd was silent, too.Just the beepingof cell phones and whispers, all around her.In the distance, asiren.491 The Shivered Skyby Matt Dinniman You hurt your father, Mother said. You shouldnt've donethat. I hurt him?Indigo coughed again.Above, bugs twirled around thegathering crowd, dancing in the floodlight.She felt dizzy, andit was a strange, uneasy feeling. We need to get him up andto a hospital. She reached over and grabbed his shirt. Don't touch him! Her mom waved the bat. Have you gone crazy? He's your father.The only one you'll ever have.You'rehurting him.Father groaned, turning over on his side.The sirenswhined, suddenly very close, and the crowd parted as thesilver and green sheriff's car pulled in.The young officerstepped from his car as two more pulled up.He unsnappedhis gun holster and pulled free his weapon. Ma'am, please drop the bat.Father stood.He was faced away from the sheriff, and hestaggered.He lurched toward the open door of the car.Thetwo other sheriffs got out of their vehicles, both women.Hermother stood there stupidly, the bat still above her head. You fucking bitch, Father mumbled.But Indigo wasn'tsure if he was talking to her or Mother. Please.Drop the bat.Father was in the passenger front seat of the car.The gun.He was getting the gun. No, Indigo said, but it came out only as a whisper. Drop the bat. My husband is hurt.He needs help [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]