Camy Tang - Sushi for One?

She didn’t expect the cracked cement steps. Her foot twisted. Her back twisted. Her knee twisted – her right knee.

Pop.

A burst of pain, like a water balloon exploding in her knee joint.

No.

Nononononono.

No, God.

No, please, no.

Please, no.

Lex grabbed her bent leg and clawed at her knee as if she could stop the swelling rushing into the joint, as if she could reach in and repair the ligament. As if she could undo what she’d done.

Oh, God. Oh, God.

Screaming. She was screaming without a sound. She couldn’t see.

Tears made the darkness into a melded blur. The pain faded, leaving a narrow ache under the skin.

Oh, God. Oh, God.

Lex, I’m right here.

Her chest collapsed. The aching rushed past her tight throat, flowed out of her nose, her eyes. Her mouth opened wide, the cries pouring out of her.

Oh, God, where did she go wrong? Why was this happening to her? She was so tired. She was so tired.

Rest.

And suddenly she felt arms around her, and she was held.

The roaring in her ears died to a whisper, like wisteria brushing against a window screen. Her heart pulsed, squeezed tight, and then released. Warmth spread from her chest, over her arms, into her belly.

She looked up through watery eyes. There was no one, but she still felt arms holding her. A hand settled on her head. She closed her eyes.

Hot tears fell onto her knee and dribbled down her leg. The gravel bit into her butt. Crickets screeched. A breeze wicked away tears and cooled her face.

She heard sandals crunching the gravel, getting closer.

“Lex.”

She looked up. Mimi’s face in front of her. No, not Mimi. Not Mimi. Where was Venus? Trish? Jenn?

“I’ll get Venus.” Gone, Mimi had gone. No, come back. Don’t leave me alone.

Lex wasn’t alone. The arms still held her.

“Lex!”

Mimi had brought her three cousins. Venus ran up to her, saw her hands around her knee. “Oh, no. Oh, God.” A whisper, a prayer. She touched Lex’s shoulder.

Lex flinched violently. Her skin had become painful, like a sunburn. No, don’t touch me.

“Lex, what’s wrong?” Venus’s hand hovered over her.

Trish pulled Venus’s hand away and turned to Mimi. “Get Aiden.”

“Why Aiden?”

Trish held Lex’s numb gaze. “He’s her therapist. He’s been touching her for weeks. It has to be Aiden.”

Jenn knelt in front of Lex. She sat there, breathing her air, staying close. Trish whispered something to Venus.

Who cares if they know about the rape? Even thinking the word made her shiver. It happened years ago. It doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing matters.

Their whispers reached her. “How do you know that’s what happened now?”

Trish’s answer was fierce. “Put two and two together. Oliver followed her out here but came back alone. Lex ran hard enough to hurt herself, and she doesn’t want anyone to touch her now, even us. It’s just like before.”

Before. Lex couldn’t remember before.

Jenn shifted in the gravel. It must be puncturing her bare legs. She leaned close. Then Lex realized she was praying.

Lex suddenly felt safe.

The crunch of more gravel. A deep voice – a male voice. “What happened?”

Trish whispering. “About eight years ago…”

No reply.

Lex’s muscles locked, rock hard. Her shoulders started quivering.

She had a hard time breathing.

Then Jenn backed away. A shadow over her. She curled up.

“Lex. I’m going to carry you to my car.” Aiden’s voice. Gentle.

Soothing. But she couldn’t relax.

Then he bent in closer, and she smelled it. Soap, fir, and a thread of musk. She remembered that smell. She remembered the soft pressure of his hands, easing the pain away.

His hand touched her back. Another arm under her leg. The smell filled her lungs, wrapped around her. Her back muscles loosened.

“Arm around my neck, Lex.” She complied and smelled a stronger whiff of fir and musk. Like a sedative, it worked into her body, into her muscles, untangling the tension.

He lifted her up, and pieces of gravel fell away from impressions molded into her skin. He bounced her a little, adjusted his grip, wrapped his arms more firmly around her. Then he walked through the forest of cars.

She closed her eyes and breathed.

Aiden took her to his car, followed by her cousins. He clicked in her seatbelt.

Venus, Trish, Mimi, and Jennifer gathered around the open passenger door.

“Aiden, take her to her dad’s place.”

Yes, Lex wanted Daddy.

“I’ll find her dad and her brother.” Mimi darted away.

“What about Grandma?” Trish frowned. “I don’t want her asking questions.”

“I’ll take care of Grandma.” Jennifer straightened. Lex noticed the stronger line in her back, and her eyes met Trish squarely rather than flickering around.

“What about…” Trish’s mouth pulled into a tight line.

Venus’s eyes glittered like a dragon’s. “I’ll tell Richard. He’ll want to know.”

“Let’s go.” Trish climbed into Aiden’s backseat.

Trish directed him to Dad’s apartment. Dad and Mary arrived a minute after they did. Aiden carried Lex into the living room and laid her on the couch.

Her father had aged, with lines crossing his mouth, his hands.

He sat on the couch with Lex, not saying anything. Lex heard Mary murmuring, and then it was just her and Dad. He didn’t touch her.

He hadn’t touched her then, either.

After the first attack, she’d sat, face hard like a porcelain Noh mask, her body a mass of rubber bands stretched to screaming tautness. She had spoken in monosyllables, and she hadn’t wanted anyone to touch her.

This time, it was different. It could have been worse. She bit her lip.

Dad shifted on the couch. Then he reached out and touched her finger.

She moved her hand forward and clasped his hand.

He squeezed tight. Her fingers grew numb, her bones felt as if they’d break, but she didn’t protest. A tear fell down her cheek.

Then she was crying, sobbing, reaching arms around Daddy and burrowing into his shirt like she used to. His hands went around her, and she was held again.

I’m here.

Oh, God. She was so sorry.

Lex’s foot caught against the side of a cardboard box, and her knee twinged. She hissed against the pain until it dissipated.

She should be looking for housing, not packing her stuff. But she had to keep moving, doing something, so she couldn’t think about what happened.

The doorbell rang. She made her way through the boxes, sliding her feet in small steps.

Trish.

“Can I come in?”

Lex moved aside. “There’s not much room.”

Trish wove her way to the bed and sat down. Lex stood by the door a moment, then followed her to the bed.

Trish chewed the inside of her cheek, kept her head bent. “I’m sorry, Lex.”

Sometime last night, in resting in Jesus’s forgiveness of all her headstrong stupidity, her reasons for being mad at Trish seemed just plain dumb. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay. You were right about Kazuo. I let him tell me what to do.”

“He’s gone now. It’s over. Clean slate.”

But Trish started sobbing. “It’s not over. I slept with him.”

Lex jumped. But really, she shouldn’t be surprised. Hadn’t she suspected it, even though she shoved it aside in denial?

“I got drunk one night. And it happened.” Tears rolled off Trish’s nose and dripped onto the sheets.

Lex heard her own breathing in the quiet, heard Trish’s soft weeping. What was she supposed to say? To think?

“I’m so numb.” Trish sniffled. “Shouldn’t I feel something more than this?”