Pork Read online

  “Run!” Steven cried, and Sandy bolted in the opposite direction, flicking dirt with every step, her long braids swinging behind her. Steven kept screaming until his voice was hoarse. He ran and ran, mustering every ounce of strength to outrun the creature pounding over the earth behind him. For a brief moment, he looked over his shoulder and saw the black shadow with red eyes gaining on him. Just as he decided to turn left to the creek, his foot caught on a protruding root and he fell, hitting his head on the ground. The wide canvas of the canopy above swiftly turned black, tossing him into a deep abyss.

  When Steven opened his eyes again, the sky was blue and bright, the dark clouds gone. The gentle sounds of gurgling water and singing sparrows filled his ears. The tree house was about thirty yards away from where he lay. His clothes were damp, and there were leaves and soil stuck to his face. He had no bruises or scratches, just a minor scrape on his elbow. He sat up and stared into the woods. Where was Sandy? Had his momma’s spy saved him from the creature and dragged him out here?

  Then he remembered how he had tripped, and the two red dots came to mind again. He shivered. At least Sandy had run. Steven gave silent thanks, hoping she wasn’t too shaken up by the incident. For the second time, his attempt to find Pork had been thwarted. He stared into the woods one last time before getting up and walking to the tree house. The sun was dipping below the horizon, so he picked up his backpack and made his way home.

  ***

  His momma was standing in the doorway, dressed in a robe, smoking a cigarette. It was her day off from Bildey’s. Steven tried to gauge her mood, but as always, it was difficult to predict. The craziest things could set her off or make her cry. If her spy had informed her about the incident in the woods, she’d want an explanation.

  “Where were you?”

  “At the library,” he lied. “I was studying.”

  “You were alone?”

  Steven gulped. It was probably best to keep lying. “Yeah.”

  “You’re not lying to me, are you, Stevie?”

  “No.”

  His momma nodded and blew a cloud of smoke into the air. “Fine. Make yourself supper and get to bed early.”

  Steven had been holding his breath, and only exhaled when she let him inside. He went to his bedroom, dropped his backpack on the floor, and thought about his momma’s questions. She didn’t sound like she knew he had been in the woods, but she could be playing it cool. He sighed and left the room to make a peanut butter sandwich in the kitchen. After supper, he took a shower and passed out in his bed almost immediately. He was exhausted to his core.

  The sleep however, did not last long. At half past two, he heard glass breaking in the hall, followed by his momma’s scream. Steven’s heart pounded his ribcage, and he squatted by the door to listen.

  “I’ll kill you, you bitch! You promised!” a man’s voice hollered, and Steven’s breath quickened. His forehead turned moist and tears threatened to fall.

  “You bastard! No! You can take your money back,” his momma said. There was a scuffle, and something else fell and broke. It was obvious the man had hit his momma. Steven couldn’t help it; he stayed trembling by the door, unable to move. “Let me go!” his momma screamed again, more desperately this time. Her voice was hoarse and urgent, almost as if she was being strangled.

  Steven panicked at the thought of his momma dying, and anger suddenly surged through his body. Blood rose to his head and he grabbed the baseball bat by the door with shaky hands. He swung the door open and saw a big, burly man on top of his momma on the couch. He was forcing himself on her while his fingers tightened around her neck. Her face was ghostly white and she was struggling to breathe, clawing at the man’s fingers and face, but he was too strong. The man was also oblivious to Steven standing right behind him.

  Steven’s knuckles turned pale as he gripped the bat. He tiptoed up to the man, swung the bat, and hit his head with a loud thump. The man jerked and then went limp, collapsing on top of Steven’s momma. She took huge breaths and clutched her neck before shoving the huge man off. He rolled over the edge of the couch and thudded on the floor.

  Steven stared at the man for a few seconds, then turned to his momma. “Are you all right?”

  Color slowly rose to her face again, and Steven was quite sure she was okay now. Black mascara tears streamed down her face, and she rubbed her bruised neck as Steven handed her the robe she had been wearing earlier. She pulled it on and got down on her knees to place a finger to the man’s wrist.

  “He’s alive. Just unconscious,” she said through choking sobs. “I’m sorry,” she said to Steven. Her eyes wilted at the corners, and she rushed to hug her son. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated, tears still pouring down her face. Steven didn’t hug her back, but instead stared at the man on his momma’s floor.

  “We can’t call the police,” Steven said without emotion.

  “No, we can’t. We’ll drag him out and leave him by the street.” His momma wiped her tears with the back of her hand and took a deep breath. “Here, grab his hand. I’ll grab the other one.” The two of them dragged the man out the door and laid him in the dirt about twenty yards from the house. His momma went back inside, then came back out with the man’s beer bottle and placed it in his hand.

  Back at home, his momma locked the door and paced the living room as her son slid to the floor. He folded his arms around his knees and dropped his head onto them. A few seconds later, his body began to shake.

  “I’m sorry I scared you like that,” his momma said, twisting a lock of hair. “He would have given me three hundred dollars if I’d let him. The strangling…” Her voice trailed off and she touched her neck. “But it was too much for me.” She reached for a cigarette on the table and lit it with shaky fingers.

  When Steven finally raised his head to look at her, his eyes were red. His momma looked guilty, dirty, and unkempt.

  “Why don’t I stop going to school and work at Bob’s instead? We can get by with your wages and mine. You won’t have to do this anymore,” he said.

  His momma sighed and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, a snicker escaped her throat. “Your Aunt Therese is probably turning in her grave right now,” she said, flicking ash into a tray on the table. She blew smoke through the corner of her lips and continued, “No. I want you to finish your schooling. Now go to your room.” Her eyes were hard as steel and she was no longer crying.

  “Momma…”

  “Go to your room now, Stevie. I won’t tell you again. And if hear you skipping out on school, I’ll skin you, you hear?” Steven got up, nodded, and went into his bedroom, clicking the door shut behind him. A minute later, he was asleep.

  He woke with a start the next morning. He’d dreamed that demons had chased him and Sandy through the woods. When Sandy had tripped and fallen, a black figure sunk its fangs into her neck and she bled to a slow death. His momma’s spies had laughed with folded arms while Steven knelt on the ground and wept. When he woke up, his sheets and pillows were wet from sweat, and he had a foreboding sense that the creature had captured Sandy last night. He kicked himself for not stopping by her house on his way home yesterday, and for assuming she had escaped. He got off his bed and rushed to get ready.

  Steven opened the front door cautiously and peeked out to see if the man was still where they’d left him last night. Steven had already taken a shower and was ready for school. But his stomach churned at the thought of passing by the man he and his momma had dumped by the roadside.

  “He’s gone,” his momma said from the couch, and Steven glanced at her. “I already checked.” She turned the other way and closed her eyes.

  Chapter 8

  During the long walk to Halstead High, Steven’s heart beat rapidly. Not in anticipation of seeing Butch and his friends again, or fielding their torments. He was worried about Sandy. What if the creature had caught her yesterday? What if it had killed her? He wiped his forehead with a shoulder as he reached the campus. He was
early. Butch and his friends had just arrived, and they watched him walk through the gate.

  “You all right, Stevie? You look kind of pale this morning,” Tommy said, but Steven continued walking briskly, ignoring him. When he finally reached the entrance to the main building, he saw Sandy standing with her friend Molly, wringing her hands. Molly was talking to someone else, but Sandy’s eyes were searching and frantic.

  “Oh, thank God,” he said as he rushed to her. “Are you okay?”

  “Steven! You’re okay!” Sandy said with relief while their classmates watched them with heightened curiosity.

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” Steven said, aware that everyone was watching. “Listen, let’s talk later.” Sandy nodded, and Steven gave her hand a squeeze before heading in.

  ***

  “What happened yesterday?” Sandy asked when they met during break.

  “Didn’t you see that thing behind my back?”

  “No. What thing?”

  “The red-eyed thing. It was chasing me. Didn’t you see it?”

  “No. You told me to run if something happened to you. So the moment you screamed and bolted, I ran the other way. But I didn’t see anything.”

  “Yeah, the creature was chasing me. So I ran.”

  “Creature? Steven, that’s terrible!”

  “I was so worried it would turn around and chase you instead.”

  “It couldn’t have. I was out of the woods and across the creek in less than a minute. I waited for you at the clearing for another minute but I was scared out of my wits so I didn’t stay long. I really wanted to come to your house and see if you were all right, but Nanny Gwen doesn’t let me go out after dark.” Sandy’s words tumbled out in rapid succession.

  “That’s okay, Sandy. It was my fault. I should have stopped by your house before going back last night. It would have saved both of us a lot of worry.”

  “What do you think it was?”

  “I don’t know. It looked like some dark creature with two red eyes.”

  “This is so scary. I’m so glad you’re okay, Steven. I was so worried last night, I couldn’t sleep. And this morning, I decided to come early and wait for you outside. If you hadn’t turned up, I was going to tell Ms. Clapthorne everything, but then I couldn’t imagine you…” Sandy’s voice quavered and she shook her head.

  “I had a bad night too. I kept having these weird dreams of being chased in the woods. I’m sorry I got you wrapped up in all this.” After some thought, he added, “You didn’t tell Molly, did you?”

  “No. Of course not. I didn’t tell anyone.” Looking a little hurt, she opened her lunchbox and removed a slice of pizza. Steven licked his lips and swallowed. “So, how did you escape the creature in the end?” Sandy asked, offering him a slice too. He took it gratefully.

  “I don’t know. I was running one minute and then the next minute, everything went black. When I woke up, I was lying by the creek, all wet. I must have crossed the creek, tripped on something, and blacked out. I don’t really know.” He wasn’t sure exactly what had happened in there, but he had a feeling his momma’s spy had something to do with it. He took a huge bite of the pizza, then added, “I’m glad we’re both okay.”

  “Yeah,” Sandy said, her forehead wrinkled in deep thought. She wasn’t eating, and Steven wondered who in their right mind would delay eating something as amazing as pepperoni and beef pizza. Madness. “Steven, I know you’re worried about Pork. But I don’t want either of us going into those woods again. It’s way too scary and it could be dangerous. Especially after what happened yesterday. In fact, even the tree house isn’t safe. It’s too close to the woods.”

  “I’m not going to look for her again. Not in the woods,” Steven said, and wiped his greasy mouth with the back of his hand. “But the tree house is definitely safe. I’ve been going there for years. It’s just the woods that are dangerous. I’ve been having weird feelings about it for a long time now.”

  “Here, you can have mine if you like,” Sandy offered him the rest of her slice. “I’m not hungry. I think I’m coming down with a fever.”

  “Oh. Do you want to go home?”

  “Yeah, I think I’ll tell Ms. Clapthorne and call Nanny Gwen to come and get me.”

  ***

  After school, Steven went home, made sandwiches, and headed to his tree house as usual. The cherries had begun to ripen, beckoning him to pick them. He stopped to gather as much fruit as the front pocket of his backpack would hold and continued across the clearing. Dark clouds were gathering; it would soon rain. Once he was up in the house, he dropped his backpack on the floor, sat by the door, and wept. Wave after wave of grief shook him. He mourned the loss of his friend Pork, rocking back and forth, hugging himself.

  “Sorry, I’m so sorry,” he said repeatedly in an attempt to erase his cowardice. He had failed to rescue her. It was all his fault. He should never have let her go back to wherever it was she came from. It was obviously dangerous there. And now she was gone.

  Half an hour later, Steven wiped his eyes, blew his nose on the corner of his shirt, and dragged his backpack to the window. He pulled out the sandwich container and fed Mildred some bread, the only thing he had to offer her. As he stood and lined up his water bottle and food container on the ledge, he spotted the unmistakable white t-shirt by the creek. Steven turned around, skipped down the ladder, and ran as fast as he could toward the white spot in the grass. Pork lay there, damp and dirty, like the first time he saw her.

  “Pork! Pork!” He skidded across the clearing, calling desperately for her as she lay still in the tall grass. He ran toward the creek, knelt, and cupped his hand in what little water was still trickling there. Sprinkling some on her face, he yelled, “Pork!” Pork’s eyes fluttered open and she smiled weakly. “Oh, Pork!” Steven scooped her up and cradled her in his arms, kissing her dirty face again and again. “You’re okay, you’re okay,” he said, rocking her as tears streamed down his cheeks.

  “Ah! Steee-ven hurt Pork,” she said, and Steven finally released her from his tight embrace. She smiled, revealing the broken teeth he had missed so much.

  “Come on, let’s go up,” he said, helping her to her feet. Pork had always looked thin and malnourished, but today she looked emaciated. She was so weak she couldn’t walk on her own. He slid one of her arms over his shoulders and held her trim waist as she took one slow step after another. When they reached the ladder, Steven asked, “Do you think you can make it up there?”

  Pork shook her head, so he let her sit on a rock while he went up to get some food and water. He figured she’d feel stronger after having something to eat. A minute later, he was opening the container and handing it to Pork. This time she drank the water first and ate second. When she had finished, Steven poured half the cherries he had picked earlier into the container and went to wash them in the creek.

  “Here, have some of these,” he said when he returned, and Pork took the fruit. Since he had only made enough sandwiches for one person, he didn’t have anything left to eat himself. But he wasn’t hungry. Sandy’s pizza would hold him over for a few more hours, and Pork’s return was a feast in itself. Steven sat on the ground next to her and wiped her face with his bare hands while she ate. There were a few scratches on her face, and some black-and-blue splotches on her neck. Further down on her legs there were more bruises. When Pork had finished the last of the cherries, she leaned back, belched, and giggled. Steven smiled and kissed her cheek again. “Do you think you can climb the ladder now?” Pork nodded. “Okay, let’s go.”

  She struggled to bend her knees and took her time to reach the top. Once they got up, Steven noticed that her lips had turned pale and she was sweating. He sat her down, laid her head on his chest, and fanned her with a notebook. When she looked more normal, he rocked her to sleep, humming a random tune. Rain began to pelt the earth around them and steadily drummed on the roof. A few minutes later, Steven was asleep too.

  They didn’t wake up until it h
ad stopped raining, more than an hour later. Pork’s t-shirt had crawled up her belly sometime during their slumber and he saw a black-and-blue mark the size of his palm just above her belly button. But she looked better when she woke up. The temperature had dropped drastically and she was shivering. He took his jacket from his backpack and put it around her shoulders.

  “Pork, why didn’t you come here the last few days?” Steven asked. Pork scratched her ear as if he hadn’t said a word. “Why are there marks on your body? Who’s hurting you?”

  “Steee-ven have cherries more?” she asked.

  Steven sighed. He poured the remaining cherries from his backpack into the container and went to wash them at the now overflowing creek. When he returned, she took the container with a smile. Steven sat facing her. She popped a cherry in her mouth and pulled out the stem, her mouth manipulating the seed before she spat it out on the ground.

  “Who did that to you?” he tried again, pointing at the marks on her legs.

  “Papa,” she said, popping another cherry in her mouth.

  “Your papa did that? Why?”

  “Cos Pork no listen.”

  “Why? What didn’t you listen to?”

  “Papa want help. Pork no help.” She spat out another seed.

  “Yeah? What kind of help?”

  “Papa want Pork rub papa snake.”

  “Rub papa snake?” Steven was confused. “I don’t understand. What papa snake?”

  “Papa snake to pee,” Pork said, pulling a stem out of her mouth.

  Steven closed his eyes, a lump forming in his throat. “Pork, listen to me,” he said, looking straight into her eyes, commanding her attention. “What your papa tried to do is wrong. If you tell the police, they will come and take him away for a long time.”