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I remember the dull sound of it's neck breaking. He had cuddled me afterwards. Softly cooing to me that it was all right. Telling me that as long as he lived I would need never fear. He would be there. And he always was.When I was 12 there had been that viscous man in the neighborhood. He was only 18, but had seemed quite a man to me. He was inches taller than even my Father, with a shaved head and a gold tooth. He used to race his car down the road, nearly hitting old people and children. Laughing as he did so. Dad had warned him to desist. In response he had begun to pursue my Mother and I as we drove the quiet streets. Charging our van with his truck. Slamming on the brakes, inches from our bumper... laughing that insane high giggle.Dad was a cop, but not where we lived. He went to the Sheriff's Department and they did what they always seemed to do... nothing. Finally my Father had enough. I remember the grim, sad, look to his features that night. He tucked me in bed and told me. She couldn't fathom why. Her daughter hadbeen upset, but that was months ago, so what was the problem?"Yeah, Mom, did they ask how I was doing, or did they just want to seemy body again?" Zoe, that's not right. They're your family." So they didn't ask how I was doing. They just wanted to see my legs instriped tights so they could pretend to lick me again." Zoe!" That had been six months ago! Heather could not understand, atall, why she would bring something like that up again. "I told you thenand I'll tell you again, I don't know what you thought you saw, but I'mcertain that wasn't it!" Weren't you yelling at the television about how we should believe awoman when she says things about this stuff?" Richard asked quietly. Hecouldn't even remember which woman it was. Was it Tara Whatsherface orChristine Blaggowhocares? Conventional, mainstream politics were amystery to him. He was thirteen and had other things on his mind."That's different," Heather said, keeping a patient tone. This.
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