Red

4

Fear became Becky Lynn’s constant companion. At school and Miss Opal’s. At the bus stop in the mornings, walking home from work in the evenings.

Razor sharp, the fear left her every sense heightened, her every nerve twitching. Waiting. For the worst to happen. Waiting for the moment when she would come face-to-face with Ricky and Tommy, for the moment when they would find her alone and completely vulnerable.

Oddly, the same fear that heightened her senses also numbed them, creating a wall between her and the world, a barrier that kept her from experiencing anything but her fear.

So she lived with it. She ate it and slept with it, it accompanied her to school and work. She awoke in the night, breathing hard, bathed in sweat, feeling suffocated by the emotion. Sometimes she awakened to the smell of Ricky’s foul breath, to the sensation of his hands on her breasts, between her legs, and she would hold the pillow to her face to muffle her cry of terror. Of revulsion. Those nights she would be unable to sleep again. She huddled under the blanket, watching light touch the sky, praying for sleep yet praying more that it wouldn’t come.

She had lost weight. Her eyes had become shadowed. Already quiet, she had stopped talking at all. No one had noticed. Not her mother or a sibling, not a teacher or Miss Opal.

But then, she hadn’t expected that anyone would. Just as she hadn’t considered telling anyone what had happened. She knew, in her heart and gut, that telling would only make her situation worse.

Becky Lynn retrieved the broom and dustpan from the back of the beauty shop and began cleaning up. Miss Opal had just finished her last appointment of the day and Fayrene and Dixie had left more than an hour ago. It had been slow, even for a Wednesday.

She tucked a hank of her hair behind her ear, moving the broom over the shiny floor, making sure she found every corner and cranny, wanting to do a good job for Miss Opal. The woman had gone to the high school principle and convinced him to give Becky Lynn special dispensation to miss last period study hall so she could work afternoons at the Cut ‘n Curl.

Becky Lynn bent to maneuver the broom under Fayrene’s workstation. She had needed the money, and she was only too happy to get away from school early. She drew her eyebrows together in thought. She had feared the first day of school, feared seeing Ricky and Tommy, so much she’d been physically ill. Yet that day and the ones following had slipped by until a month had passed without incident. The boys hadn’t approached her again. They hadn’t touched her, hadn’t exposed themselves or teased her much at school. In fact, they had been distant. Almost polite.

She had told herself that she was safe. She had told herself they had forgotten her, that they were busy now with football, their girlfriends and school functions.

Yet, no matter how often she reassured herself, something about their distance unsettled her. And her sense of being threatened grew with every day.

She frowned and swept the last of Mrs. Peachtree’s gunmetal gray hair into the dustpan. In the delta, the quieter, the more still and heavy the air, the worse the coming storm was going to be. That’s the way the air had felt to her every day since the river. Heavy, ripe with waiting and so still she could hear her own heart pump.

Maybe they had scared themselves, she thought, shuddering. Maybe Buddy Wills’s words had sunk into their thick skulls.

Or maybe Randy had demanded they leave her alone.

She tightened her lips into a grim line and emptied the dustpan of hair into the trash. Her brother was no hero—especially hers. The last thing he would ever do was stick up for her. He had made that clear the day by the river and every day since. The bastard wouldn’t even look at her.

The bell jangled against the shop’s glass door. Becky Lynn glanced over her shoulder, expecting to see Miss Opal’s husband, Talbot. He usually stopped by around this time to see how his wife was doing and to find out what she had planned for dinner.

Instead, Ricky and Tommy sauntered through the beauty-shop door, their lips twisted into self-satisfied smirks. She froze, a chill racing up her spine. Had they come looking for her?

Of course not. Becky Lynn drew in a deep breath, working to calm herself, to slow her runaway pulse. She wasn’t alone. They couldn’t touch her now, they couldn’t hurt her.

“Hello, boys.” Opal snapped the cash drawer shut and smiled. “What can I do for you?”

“Hello, Miss Opal, ma’am.”

Tommy stopped at the counter, Ricky a step or two behind him. Becky Lynn tightened her fingers on the broom handle, praying neither of them looked her way.

“Mama sent me by to pick up a bottle of that strawberry shampoo she likes so much. She said to tell you she’d pay you when she came in on Saturday.”

“That’ll be fine.” Opal took the receipt book out of the drawer and began writing up the transaction. “We goin’ to win that big game Friday night?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ricky said proudly. “We’re goin’ to kick some Wolverine butt.”

“You bet,” Tommy added. “Those boys’ll be sorry they ever came to Bend.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Miss Opal rummaged under the counter, then made a sound of annoyance. “I had a bottle of that shampoo set aside to take home myself. I bet Fayrene up and sold it. Lord knows, I shouldn’t expect her to walk ten feet.”

“Becky Lynn,” she called over her shoulder, “fetch me one of those strawberry shampoos from the display in back. You know which one I mean.”

Becky Lynn watched in horror as Tommy and Ricky turned and looked at her. The broom slipped from her nerveless fingers, clattering against the linoleum floor. She stared stupidly at them, unable to breathe, to move.

Ricky’s mouth curved into a cold smile. Her heart began to thrum, her palms to sweat. She’d wanted to die, and they’d just been having a little fun.

Miss Opal frowned. “Becky Lynn? The shampoo.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she whispered, turning and crossing to the Redkin display. She took a bottle from the shelf, her hands trembling so badly she almost dropped it.

A little fun. They’d just been having a little fun.

She carried the bottle to Miss Opal, her eyes downcast, her feet leaden.

“Hiya, Becky Lynn.”

She lifted her gaze to Ricky’s, terror choking her. He looked her straight in the eye, arrogantly, without apology or fear. His gaze, as flat and emotionless as a shark’s, mocked her. She had a sense that he knew everything she felt, and that she amused him.

She curled her fingers into fists. Because of who he was, he thought he could get away with anything. “Hello,” she said, digging her nails into her palms, her voice high.

He smiled again, this time broadly for Miss Opal’s benefit. “I haven’t seen you much around school. Where have you been hiding yourself?”

Aware of Miss Opal’s gaze, she shook her head, her mouth dry. “Nowhere. I’ve been…nowhere.”

Ricky picked up the bottle of shampoo and tossed it to Tommy. “We’ll catch up with you later, Becky Lynn. Right, Tommy?”

The bottle slapped against Tommy’s palm, and he wrapped his fingers around it. “Yeah. One of these days.”

A sound of fear escaped her, small and breathless. It slipped unbidden past her lips, and Miss Opal looked at her sharply. “Becky Lynn, that delivery of products still needs to be unloaded and checked in. It’s in the storeroom. See to it now, please.”

Becky Lynn nodded, relief stealing her breath. She turned and fled to the storeroom. Once there, she brought her trembling hands to her face. “We’ll catch up with you later,” Ricky had said. “One of these days.” Tommy had agreed.

She had been right to feel threatened; she hadn’t been paranoid. Ricky and Tommy hadn’t forgotten her; they had just put her on hold.

From out front, Becky Lynn heard Miss Opal tell the boys goodbye and to say hello to their mamas, then heard the bell jangle against the door.

Bitterness rose like a bile in her throat; tears burned the back of her eyes. No one would ever believe Tommy and Ricky were anything but model young gentlemen, no one would believe they could do any wrong. Not them, not two of Bend’s favorite sons.

Becky Lynn crossed to the product shipment and knelt on the floor beside the box. She took out the packing list, the printed words and numbers swimming in front of her eyes, her tears making reading it an impossibility.

Where could she hide? How could she protect herself? She lowered her head to the box and rested her forehead against it. The tears slipped down her cheeks and off the tip of her nose, splashing onto the packing list clenched in her hands. She had no one to turn to, no one who would believe her.

“We need to talk.” Miss Opal came into the room, shutting the door behind her.

Becky Lynn wiped away the tears on her cheeks, then darted a look over her shoulder. Miss Opal stood just inside the room, hands on her hips, her expression stern. “Ma’am?”

“Becky Lynn Lee, I want you to tell me what’s going on with those boys.”

Becky Lynn gazed at the other woman, a glimmer of hope blooming inside her, pushing at her fear and despair, at her loneliness. She could tell Miss Opal. Miss Opal would believe her.

She drew in a shuddering breath. “You mean Ricky and Tommy?”

“Yes.” The hairdresser took a step toward her, shaking her head in disappointment. “Just because some folks around Bend think you’re trash doesn’t mean you have to act like it.”

Becky Lynn frowned, her heart beginning to pound. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“You’ve been sleeping around with those boys, haven’t you?”

“No!” The word ripped from her as she jumped to her feet. She faced her boss, hurt and betrayal swelling inside her, souring in her mouth. The only person who had ever been supportive and kind, the only person she had ever thought she could, just maybe, turn to, believed she was no better than a tramp.

“I would never…those boys…they—”

“Becky Lynn Lee,” Miss Opal interrupted, her expression and tone righteous, “you listen to me. Your reputation is yours alone. Nobody can take it from you, and likewise, only you can throw it away. And once it’s gone, it can never be retrieved.”

Becky Lynn thought of that day by the river, her head filling with the memory, her stomach turning with it. Ricky and Tommy had touched her when she hadn’t wanted to be touched, they had taken without asking, without consent. She would never feel clean again.

She faced Miss Opal, all her hurt, all her anger and fear, her humiliation, rushing to her lips. “You’d never think those boys would do something wrong…something awful! Oh, no, not fine upstanding boys like Tommy Fischer and Ricky Jones. You could never imagine that they might…that they might hurt me.”

Becky Lynn fisted her fingers. “I thought you…cared about me. I thought you believed I was something better than everyone else did. I see now that I was—”

She choked back the words, and swung away from Miss Opal once more, curving her arms around her middle, holding and comforting herself because no one else would.

“What are you saying, Becky Lynn? Did those boys—” The older woman cleared her throat. “Did they touch you?”

“Yes,” she whispered, not turning, not wanting to see Miss Opal’s expression.

Miss Opal’s silence deafened. Becky Lynn turned and faced her, spine ramrod straight. “What are you going to do now? Fire me? Call me a liar?”

For a long moment, Miss Opal said nothing. Then she sighed, the sound old and defeated. “I’m sorry, child. So…sorry. I do believe you.” She folded her hands in front of her. “Though I wish I didn’t.”

Miss Opal sighed again. “You were behaving so strangely…and those boys, there was something about the way they looked at you. I jumped to the conclusion that you…had…that you were…”

Sleeping with them. Just the way poor white trash would. Becky Lynn lifted her chin defensively and drew in a ragged breath. “Don’t worry about it,” she whispered, her voice thick. “If I’m not fired, I’ll finish unpacking that order now.”

Miss Opal touched her shoulder lightly. “I’m so sorry,” she said again. “Please forgive me.”

Becky Lynn shuddered. Miss Opal’s touch was gentle, reassuring.

She would love to be held, would love to lean against the older woman and sob out her fears. She would love to forget what Miss Opal had accused her of. But she knew better than to do any of those things. When she forgot her place and who she was, she got hurt.

She shrugged off Miss Opal’s hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

“But I will worry about it. I’m fond of you and…and I feel terrible about what I just suggested. You’re a good girl, and I knew you wouldn’t do that, but I… Look at me, Becky Lynn. Please.”

Becky Lynn turned and met her boss’s eyes. Miss Opal looked genuinely distressed. Her already hawkish features were pinched, her eyes soft with regret. As she gazed at the other woman, some of her anger, her indignation, slipped away. Even as she softened, she inched her chin up.

“You’re right to be angry with me. I was wrong, and I’m terribly sorry.” Miss Opal caught her hands. “Now, Becky Lynn,” she said quietly but in a tone that brooked no argument, “I want you to tell me what those boys did to you.”

Becky Lynn shook her head and tugged against the other woman’s grasp. “I’m fine.”

“That’s not what I asked you, Becky Lynn Lee.” She tightened her fingers. “What did those boys do to you?”

Becky Lynn gazed at Miss Opal, the truth pressing at her, begging to be told. She sucked in a deep breath. She wanted to tell; she wanted someone to believe her. She wanted Ricky and Tommy to be punished.

But she was afraid.

As if reading her thoughts, Miss Opal reached out and tipped her chin gently up. “You can trust me, child,” she said softly, as if reading her thoughts. “I promise I’ll help you if I can.”

Becky Lynn lowered her eyes to her toes. Her heart began to thunder; the blood rushed to her head until she was dizzy with it. “They…touched me. Ricky and Tommy…they shoved me up against a tree and they—” Tears flooded her eyes, hot and urgent. “They touched my breasts and my…”

She lifted her eyes to Miss Opal’s, tears blurring her vision. “They wouldn’t stop. I begged them to, but they…wouldn’t.”

The hairdresser made a sound of distress and drew Becky Lynn into her arms and against her bony chest. “Poor, baby. Poor, sweet child.” She stroked Becky Lynn’s hair, murmuring words, sounds, of comfort.

“They wouldn’t stop,” Becky Lynn repeated, reliving the horror of those minutes. “Buddy tried to talk them into leaving me alone, but Randy just stood there. My own brother—” She buried her face in Miss Opal’s shoulder.

The hairdresser’s hand stilled for a moment, then she resumed her rhythmic stroking. “Becky Lynn,” she asked quietly, “did those boys…did they rape you?”

She shook her head, sniffling, tears soaking the other woman’s blouse.

“Thank God for that.” Miss Opal took in a deep, thoughtful breath. “Did you tell your parents?”

Becky Lynn eased away from Miss Opal and met her eyes, her own still swimming. “Daddy wouldn’t have…believed me, and even if he did, he wouldn’t have done anything about it. And Mama, well…she’s got enough troubles of her own.”

Miss Opal’s lips tightened with disapproval, but she didn’t comment.

“Did you tell one of your teachers, a school counselor, or—”

She shook her head again. “I didn’t tell anybody.”

“Then we must decide what we’re going to do.”

“Do?” Becky Lynn repeated, stunned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we can either go to Ricky’s and Tommy’s parents or to the police—”

“No!” Becky shook her head again, this time with growing alarm. She could imagine what Tommy’s and Ricky’s parents would think of her accounting of events, could imagine how the police would react. Within hours, Bend would be buzzing with the story about how that trashy Becky Lynn Lee lied about the stars of the Bend High School football team. She couldn’t bear the thought of people talking about her that way. She couldn’t bear the speculation.

Panicked, she clasped her hands together. “Don’t you see? Nobody will believe me. They’ll think I was the one…that I wanted attention. It would be awful, I couldn’t stand it.”

“You can’t let them get away with this,” Miss Opal said, her voice tight. “It isn’t right.”

“You didn’t believe me at first, why would anyone else?”

The older woman sighed heavily. Becky Lynn could see her boss struggle to decide the best thing to do.

“Please, Miss Opal. Please don’t tell.” Becky Lynn caught the older woman’s hands, fear coiling around her, squeezing at her chest until she could hardly breathe. “I’m afraid of what will happen if you do. They might—”

“What could they do, child? It’s keeping something like this secret that will hurt you. We must go to their parents or the authorities.”

“No, please…” Becky Lynn clutched Miss Opal’s hands. “Just promise me you won’t tell. Please.”

The hairdresser made a soft sound, part affection, part reticence. “All right, Becky Lynn. I won’t tell. For now. But I don’t like it.”

“Thank you, Miss Opal. Thank you so much.”

“But you must promise me that if those boys do anything to you, anything at all, you’ll come to me at once.”

Becky Lynn smiled. “I will. I promise.”

The woman touched Becky Lynn’s cheek lightly. “I don’t want you to think you have no one to turn to. Never again.”

5

Becky Lynn promised, and as the days slipped into weeks, she was filled with a sense of well-being and security. Partly because Ricky, Tommy and their gang never bothered her and partly because Miss Opal had taken to watching over her like a mother hen.

The older woman insisted on driving Becky Lynn home from work, insisted that when she did walk, she take the most traveled routes, and had even taken to sending Fayrene or Dixie for the pastries on Saturday morning. Fayrene had herself in a snit over it, but Miss Opal didn’t seem concerned in the least over the other hairdresser’s pique. She always found a more pressing job for Becky Lynn, one from which she couldn’t be spared, even for a few minutes.

Becky Lynn smiled to herself as she scrubbed the first shampoo bowl. For the first time in her life, she had a sense of what it must be like to have a mother, a mother in the real sense of the word, even if only part-time. It was nice to have someone who worried about her, someone who cared about what happened to her. It made her feel special. It made her feel cocooned and safe.

“Becky Lynn, you sure you can make it home without a ride?”

She lifted her gaze to Dixie. The other woman stood at the shop’s front door, buttoning her coat. Becky Lynn nodded. “I’ll be fine. It’s not even dark yet.”

The hairdresser looked longingly over her shoulder. Her last two appointments had canceled, and she wanted to go home. Becky Lynn couldn’t blame her—it had been a busy day, and she had a family to take care of.

She returned her gaze to Becky Lynn. “You’re sure? Miss Opal was pretty insistent that I drive you. She made me promise.” Dixie pursed her lips in thought. “I could ask Fayrene.”

Becky Lynn had no doubt how that request would be met. The other hairdresser was in back now, sulking because Dixie was going home and she would have to stay and close the shop. “I’ll be fine. Really.”

“Okay.” Dixie fastened a scarf around her cap of curls. “Miss Opal sure was tickled about going to see her granddaughter cheer at that pep rally. You going?”

Becky Lynn shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, okay then. See you tomorrow afternoon.”

As Dixie stepped out into the gathering dusk, Becky Lynn had the sudden urge to call her back and beg her to wait. The words, the plea, sprang to her tongue. She took an involuntary step toward the door, starting to call out, then stopped, shaking her head at her foolishness. If ever there was a night she didn’t need to worry about walking home, it was tonight. As key players on the Bend High football team, Tommy and Ricky, and just about everybody else in this football-crazy town, would be busy at the pep rally.

She shook her head again, and went back to scrubbing the shampoo bowls. No, tonight she had nothing to fear.

Forty-five minutes later, she and Fayrene parted company at the square. Although just past five, shadows already swallowed the peripheral edges of the square and pressed inward, gobbling up the last of the light.

Becky Lynn looked straight ahead, toward the main road and the brightly lit homes and neighborhoods that lined it, then to her right and the road that led across the railroad tracks and through the worst part of Bend but straight to her house. She could save twenty minutes. Her stomach rumbled, and the shadows eased closer.

She tilted her face to the darkening sky and thought of her promise to Miss Opal, thought of the hour and of Tommy and Ricky and the pep rally.

Even as a chill crawled up her arms, she shook her head and angled to her right, cutting across the square, moving as fast as she could without running. Tonight she had nothing to fear.

In minutes, she had left the lights of the square behind and was crossing the railroad tracks. As she cleared them, she noticed the quiet. No slamming doors reverberated through the night, no mothers called their children to dinner, no cars roared past. Not even a breeze stirred the trees.

She had passed into the part of Bend called Sunset. Due west of the square, the sun always seemed to set, bloody red, right on top of Sunset. Considered the worst part of town, worse even than her own shabby neighborhood, it housed the dirt poor.

The people who lived here were the ones her father felt superior to. These were the ones he put down and called names and hurt whenever he had the chance. She’d always thought that a sick, human failing, that need to find and denigrate someone less fortunate than yourself.

She shuddered and lifted her face to the dark sky.

She should have taken the long way.

Becky Lynn stepped up her pace, hiking up her collar higher on her neck. She glanced nervously to her sides. The sparsely populated area had homes that were nothing better than shanties, some of which were former slave cabins, left over from when this land had been part of a prosperous plantation; cotton fields and dilapidated out-buildings. She’d walked this way hundreds of times before; she had never felt threatened, had never been afraid.

Had Miss Opal taken such care of her that now, without the woman’s guardian gaze, she felt afraid? Silly, she thought, hugging herself. She was being silly.

From her left, she heard a sound, something soft and thick, like a muffled laugh. From her right, the scurry of something through the grass, some small frightened animal, then the sound of a twig snapping.

Becky Lynn stopped in the middle of the road, her heart hammering against the wall of her chest. She looked around her, peering into the shadows. “Is anyone there?”

Silence answered her, louder than any voiced reply. She sucked in a sharp breath and started walking again, stopping at the sound of her own name. It floated on the night air, called in a ghostly voice, the kind of voice used on Halloween by kids trying to scare one another, laced with both cunning and amusement.

Ricky and Tommy weren’t at the pep rally.

They were here.

Her heart in her throat, she started to run.

From her right came the sound of someone running through the overgrown fields. A moment later, Ricky darted out of the shadows ahead of her, his smile eerily white in the darkness. “Hello, Becky Lynn.”

She stopped in her tracks, fear rising like bile inside her. It turned on her tongue, threatening to choke her. She swallowed, fighting to find a shred of calm. “Wha-what are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you, Becky baby. We’ve been waiting weeks for you.” He grinned and her blood went cold. “Just like we promised. Right, Tommy?”

“Right,” the other boy answered, stepping out from the shadows to her left. “How’ya doing tonight, baby?” With a jerk, Tommy yanked another person forward. Buddy stumbled into view.

Buddy looked sick. He had something she couldn’t make out clutched in his hand. She searched the shadows for her brother, but they’d obviously left him behind.

She took a step backward, glancing frantically around her, looking for a way to escape. Why had she done this? Why hadn’t she listened to Miss Opal? She breathed deeply through her nose, working to keep her wits—what was left of them—about her.

“Lost your guard dog tonight.” Ricky made a clucking sound with his tongue. “What a pity. For you.”

Tommy laughed and Buddy hung his head.

“Bet she’s going to enjoy seeing her granddaughter cheer. Right, Tommy?”

“I’d enjoy it, too, Ricky. She’s one fine little piece.”

They closed ranks and took a step toward her. Her fingers and toes went numb, the inside of her mouth turned to ash. A light burned from the house just behind her to her left. If she could just make it to that door, maybe someone there would help her.

She took another step backward, frantically searching for a way to distract them, for something that would give her the moments she needed to make it to that doorway. “Leave me alone,” she whispered. “Please.”

Ricky laughed and took another step toward her. “Now, why should we go and do that?”

“I haven’t done anything to you. I just want to be left alone.”

“Seems I remember you slapping me.” Ricky turned to Tommy. “Do you remember that?”

“Sure do.” Tommy grinned. “Slapped the shit out of you, right in front of us.”

“Look,” she said, panic clawing at her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just—”

“What did you think you were going to accomplish by telling Miss Opal?” Ricky asked, his upper lip curling. “What did you think our parents were going to do? Spank us?”

Miss Opal had gone to their parents? Becky Lynn struggled for an even breath. She hadn’t kept her promise? “Wh-what do you mean?”

“Did you really think anyone was going to believe we would touch you?” Ricky sneered. “Our parents laughed. They were offended at the suggestion.”

“C’mon, guys,” Buddy piped up suddenly, his voice high with nerves. “Let her go. If we’re late for the rally, coach will have our heads.”

“What do you think he’s gonna do?” Tommy snapped, swinging toward the other boy. “Bench us for the big game? No way. Can’t win without us.”

“Buddy, you fuckin’ pussy.” Ricky practically spat the words. “We talked about this, we can all get a crack at her and still be suited up in time.”

They meant to rape her.

With a sound of fear, Becky Lynn turned and ran. Her fear made it hard to breathe, it clutched at her chest even as she pushed herself to run faster. Her feet pounded on the dirt road, rocks bit into the bottoms of her feet, she angled off the road and toward the lit doorway.

Safety within reach, she opened her mouth to scream for help; one of them tackled her from behind, knocking her to the ground, knocking the wind out of her. She tasted dirt and her own blood, pinpoints of light flashed behind her eyes.

In the next moment, a hand was forced over her mouth and she was being dragged, Ricky at her head and Tommy at her feet, from the side of road and behind a dilapidated shed. She struggled, dimly aware of Buddy following behind, dragging his feet.

If she had any hope, she realized, it was Buddy. If only Ricky would take his hand off her mouth, she could beg Buddy to help her; she could scream. But he didn’t, and his grip partially covered her nose, as well, and she felt light-headed from the lack of oxygen.

Dear God, she thought, struggling for air, this couldn’t be happening to her! The words played through her head like a continuous tape.

“You got the paper bag, Buddy?”

“This has gone far enough.” Buddy cleared his throat nervously. “I mean, joking about it was one thing, but—”

Ricky tightened his grip on her and glared at the other boy. “You going to be a pussy all your life, Wills? Or are you a faggot? Give me the goddamned bag!”

The boy hung back, his face white with fear. “What if we get caught? What if—”

“We’re not going to get caught.”

“What if she tells? Jesus, Ricky, we could go to jail!”

“You are such a fucking girl, Buddy.” Ricky laughed, the sound twisted and evil. “Who’s going to believe her? Nobody, that’s who. Our folks didn’t believe Miss Opal, they laughed at the thought that we would touch her. You think I would do this if I didn’t know I could get away with it?”

They were raping her because they knew they could get away with it.

And because they thought she was nothing.

“Now bring me the goddamned bag so I can put it over her head. Then help hold her down.” Ricky’s hand slackened as he faced the other boy.

They were going to put a paper bag over her head so they wouldn’t have to look at her. Sons of bitches! Bastards! Fury ate her fear, and with Ricky’s attention diverted, she propelled herself up, knocking him sideways. Enraged, she flew at Tommy, raking his face with her nails. He howled with pain. He pried her off him, then wheeling back with his fist, punched her.

His fist connected with her jaw, and her head snapped back, pain shooting with blinding intensity through her skull. She reeled backward and hit the ground, her head cracking against a rock. Pain shot through her head, then light. Brilliant white and blinding.

Everything went black.

When Becky Lynn came to, she saw only black, could only draw a shallow breath, closed as she was in the damp, tight box. Disoriented, she tried to move her hands but found them anchored, found her legs nailed down, stretched at a painful angle.