The air is heavy with the smell of the storm: earthy, damp, sharp. Strange, thin clouds creep over the ridge to the north of the farm. The ambush is quick and silent, shrouding my view of the valley in silver mist and shades of purple shadows. The old house begins to creak, protesting the sudden drop in temperature. I flex my bare feet on the splintered wooden porch, considering.
The cows are lowing in the western field. I can picture them clustered around their favorite oak, seeking warmth and comfort and safety. To the east, in the pig pens and chicken coops, the animals are silent.
Moose presses his nose against my calf, whining.
“I know,” I agree. “It’s worse than they said.”
I don’t have time to secure all the animals on my own. The storm is coming too quickly. I can’t ask Pa. Ma is dredging chicken in her secret batter recipe and slicing fresh tomatoes. Anyway, Ma has nothing to do with the animals – not while they’re still alive.
Wally is a lazy fool, but he’ll come if I call. Even a fool can close up a barn door.
The winds are rising. I have to move. I push open the screen door and holler, “Wally – the barn – hurry!” I hear Pa shift in the den, but I don’t pause to look at him. I turn and race for the cow pasture. I’m relieved to hear the screen door slam again a few seconds later as Wally runs to the barn.
I unlatch the wooden gate and slow my pace as I approach the cows. I don’t want to spook them.
“Come, now, sweet cow,” I croon. Four cows swish their tails, encircling three calves. Moose approaches them, huffing reassuringly at his favorite cow. I call her Eileen. It makes me think of dancing in the kitchen. The smell of vanilla. A crackling record player.
“Let’s go inside now, sweet Eileen.” I continue to speak in a low, calm voice, walking backward toward the stable. First Eileen, then the rest of the cows begin to move, deciding that me and Moose are less of a threat than the angry skies.
Inside, I stroke the animals. I tell them they’ll be safe and that I’ll be back soon. I check both door latches carefully as I leave. I still cringe at the memory of the time I’d rushed out, leaving one latch unsecured and waking to Pa’s fury.
I’ve never made that mistake again.
I feel a pit in my stomach as I approach the house. Pa is standing on the porch, staring at me. Moose growls quietly. I freeze, but Pa is still out of earshot. I thump Moose with my knee and he falls silent.
I hesitate when I reach the porch steps, but Pa steps aside and smiles, waving me inside. I fight back a shudder.
No one speaks at dinner. The wind shrieks, wails like sirens piercing the sky and setting my teeth on edge. I think of Moose, cowering under the front porch, and I pray silently that he’ll be safe.
Then I take a small bite of tomato, savoring the juice. When the policemen kick in the front door and storm the house, I raise my eyes to the heavens, thinking of answered prayers.
——————–
Officer Clay sets a plate of donuts and a cup of coffee in front of me. He looks uncomfortable. I stroke Moose’s head and watch him.
“Ah,” Officer Clay says.
I wait.
“I’m sorry you have to wait in here.” Officer Clay looks around the interview room, gesturing at nothing in particular. “It’s the only place that’s got some privacy.”
Moose huffs. He seems bored.
“I didn’t know if you…well, what kind of donuts,” Officer Clay says. “But… night you’ve had, I figured you needed some sort of…” His voice trails off. He tries to smile, his eyes crinkling in a way that reminds me of something. Someone. I can’t think of who.
“Look,” he says, shuffling his feet. “I can’t imagine what you’re thinking right now. Can’t imagine… We’re trying to sort through everything as fast as we can so we can get you home.”
I suck in a sharp breath. Officer Clay notices.
“Not the farm,” he says. “Of course not. That place…”
“Where are they?” I ask. My voice is steady. I’m surprised. I don’t feel steady.
Officer Clay blinks. “Your parents?”
I hesitate. Decide it’s too soon. “Ma and Pa. And Wally.”
Officer Clay presses his lips together. “They’re in custody. Wally is with a social worker until we can figure out…” He shrugs.
I nod. “Because he’s young.”
Officer Clay looks at me. “Yes. Because he’s young.”
Moose growls.
“I need to ask you some questions,” Officer Clay says, rubbing his chin. “They’re still searching the farm, and there’s plenty of evidence there to support our theories, but… I still need to ask you some questions.”
I shrug. I’ve been expecting this.
Officer Clay is silent. The questions should scare me, but they don’t. I wonder briefly if I’m still capable of feeling fear. Then I remember.
“Jim and Terry Barron,” Officer Clay says. “You call them Pa and Ma?”
“Pa…” I begin. I pause. My mouth fills with saliva, thick as molasses. I swallow hard, feel tears well in my eyes, blood rush to my cheeks. I’m embarrassed. I breathe through my nose.
“It’s okay, honey,” Officer Clay says. He moves his hand toward me, then pulls it back. It’s too soon. “Take all the time you need.”
I try again. “Jim.” I stop. Consider. It feels like freedom, tastes like acid. I make a decision: “He made me.”
Officer Clay nods. “You can call them whatever you want now. And if you’re short on ideas, I can give you a couple.” He smiles, and I laugh. The sound startles me. Officer Clay’s grin widens, then disappears. He sighs. Back to business. “Do you remember when…do you remember what happened the day they took you?”
I nod. I remember everything.
——————–
The girl was standing on a swing, gripping the chains in her small fists as she tried to maintain her balance. Her parents were busy. The twins were throwing dirt again, making the other toddlers cry. Moose yipped at her. At least he wanted to play with her, she thought.
The woman approached first. She told the girl that she was a very good balancer. The girl liked that. Then she told the girl that her dog looked just like Moose. She said they might be brothers.
The girl thought Moose was the cutest puppy in the world. She liked the idea of there being a twin Moose. She said that maybe his name was Goose. The woman told her she was funny. The girl liked that, too.
The woman told her the puppy was in her van. She pointed. The van was parked close by. She said it would only take a minute to check. The girl looked at her parents. One of the twins was shoveling dirt in his mouth. The girl decided they wouldn’t even notice if she went away for one minute. She walked toward the van, Moose by her side, looking for the puppy.
By the time the girl saw the man, it had been too late.
——————–
“You were seven,” Officer Clay says.
I nod.
Officer Clay shakes his head. “Did they take you to the farm right away?”
I nod again. “They had my room ready for me.”
Officer Clay closes his eyes. He opens them. He looks down at the piece of paper in front of him. “Your room. Is that the storm shelter the officers found?”
“Yes.” I chew my lip. “He wanted it to be private.”
Officer Clay opens his mouth. Closes it. Waits. He looks at Moose.
“They let you keep Moose.”
I nod. I reach for Moose. “I was scared they would hurt him. He always said, ‘Not yet.’”
“‘Not yet,’” Officer Clay repeats. He clenches his fist, then presses his hand flat on the table. It leaves a sweat stain.
We are silent for a minute. Moose huffs. Officer Clay smiles at him.
“That’s one heck of a dog you got there,” he says.
I smile. “He just turned nine. Two days ago. I never told them his birthday, but I always remembered.”
Officer Clay frowns at the plate of donuts. “I don’t think donuts are too good for dogs. I’ll ask one of the guys to pick up some treats for him. He deserves a birthday present.”
“He likes carrots,” I tell Officer Clay. He makes a note on his paper. I decide that I like Officer Clay.
Officer Clay takes his hat off. Sits it on the table. Runs his hand through his sweaty hair. I wait. He looks at me, then at the table, then back at me. Exhales. “Did they hurt you?”
I pause. Touch my knee. Think.
“Yes,” I say.
——————–
The first time he came into the girl’s room, she pulled her knees into her chest, pressed herself against the wall. Waited.
He stood in the doorway for a long time, watching her. He breathed like a bull. The room was small. She could smell his breath. It smelled sharp and sour. Eventually, he walked to the bed. Sat down on the edge. She listened while he spoke. He told her that this was her room now. That there were rules. That she was to call him Pa, and her Ma. That she was to do what she was told. No matter what. He asked her if she understood.
The girl said, “I want to go home.”
He made her regret it.
That was the last time she spoke of home.
——————–
Officer Clay rubs the back of his neck. He takes deep breaths. He listens, and I try to tell him what he needs to know. Sometimes I can’t speak. He never rushes me. It takes a long time.
Later, Moose begins to whine.
“He needs to go outside,” I say.
Officer Clay nods. He checks his watch. He shakes his head.
“Okay,” he says. “If it’s okay with you, I’ll step outside with Mr. Moose and let him use the bathroom. I’ll bring him right back to you.”
I hesitate, then nod. I think I trust Officer Clay. I pat Moose’s head and tell him I love him. Just in case. When they walk out the door, I begin to pray. I count in my head while they’re gone. Before I count to two hundred, they come back.
I start to cry. I’m surprised. So is Officer Clay. I clutch my stomach, then sink to the floor. I feel like I’m going to die. Moose presses against me, and I wrap my arms around him and cry. I can’t remember the last time I cried.
Officer Clay doesn’t say anything. He lets me cry.
Eventually, I run out of tears. I don’t know how long it takes. My breath is shaky, and I have the hiccups, but I’m not crying. I keep my face pressed into Moose’s fur. He’s warm.
Officer Clay clears his throat.
I look at him.
“Your parents will be here in a few minutes.”
I wait. My stomach hurts. My chest hurts. My brain hurts. My breath hurts. I’m afraid.
“I know…” Officer Clay stops. Considers. “No, I don’t. I don’t know a goddamn thing.”
I stare at him. I consider laughing.
“I can’t imagine for one second what you’re going through. What you’ve been through. How scared you must be. But I do know one thing: they’ve never stopped loving you, or missing you, or looking for you.”
I touch my knee. Wait. Ask, “Are you sure?”
Officer Clay blinks. “I’m sure. I promise. I’d never tell you something that wasn’t true.”
I don’t say anything. I want to believe him.
Officer Clay watches me. His face changes. He tries to hide it, but he’s angry. I can see it. He keeps his voice very calm.
“Did he tell you that they didn’t want you back?”
I hesitate, then nod.
——————–
The girl clung to the pillow, staring at the wall, trying to decide if she was still alive. If she wanted to be. She was cold. He stood up, cleared his throat, cracked his neck. The smell of sweat and body odor made her eyes water.
She could feel his eyes on her when he spoke. She didn’t want to listen. He told her that she belonged to him now. He told her that she had a new name. He said her new name over and over again. He told her that she was disgusting. He told her that she was bad. He told her that mommy and daddy didn’t love her anymore. That no one could love her after this. That they would never take her back, even if they found her. That they would never find her. He laughed. He screamed at the top of his lungs, pounded on the walls, jumped up and down. He stopped, wheezing, laughing. He said no one would be able to hear her. He said that she would say yes next time, any time he told her to, and maybe then he wouldn’t make it hurt so much.
He leaned down. His eyes were bright. Wild. He dragged his hand through her hair. Grabbed a handful. Held it tight. Made it hurt.
He asked if she heard him. She nodded.
He told her to say yes. She said yes. He told her to say yes, sir. She said yes, sir. He told her to say I love you, Pa. She paused. He gripped her hair tighter. She said it. He smiled. Released her hair. Kissed her softly. He asked her what her name was.
She knew what he wanted. She said her new name.
She thought of a squirrel, its cheeks full of secrets. She tucked the other name away.
——————–
Officer Clay stands near the door to the interview room. He looks at me. I stand back against the wall, with Moose beside me. My hair is brushed straight, even though Officer Clay says it doesn’t matter. It matters to me.
“You ready?” Officer Clay asks.
I shake my head. Pause. Shrug. Nod.
Officer Clay turns to the door.
“Officer Clay?” I ask. He looks at me. “You promise?”
He smiles at me. His eyes look sad. “I promise, honey.”
I exhale. I nod. Moose presses his nose against my leg. I pat his head.
——————–
When Eric and Eileen come into the room, they will cry. They will give me my space; it will take some time before I remember how to be their daughter. Moose will yip like a puppy. We will all cry some more.
They’ll tell me about my brothers, about a new sister I’ve never met. They’ll tell me that my brothers no longer eat dirt. I’ll laugh.
I will cry when I say goodbye to Officer Clay. I’ll ask him if he’ll call to say hello sometimes. He’ll promise. He’ll cry too. Moose will sniff around the front counter at the station; a deputy will feed him carrot sticks.
In the car, my parents will talk to me. They’ll tell me that I don’t have to talk until I’m ready. Then they’ll tell me about my bedroom. They’ll tell me that it belongs to me, and that I’ll get to choose everything that goes in it. I’ll start to think about all the colors I used to love, and how I’ll learn to love them again. My parents will tell me about their yard – our yard – where Moose will play.
I’ll tell them that I worry about the animals at the farm. They will promise to call and find out if they can help. They will promise that my animals will be safe. Moose will huff. I’ll wonder if he misses Eileen the cow.
It will be sunny when we pull into the driveway of their – our – house. Moose will run into the yard and begin to dig a hole. Eric will sigh, but he will laugh too. We will agree that dogs are silly but that Moose deserves a happy home, and digging holes will make him happy.
I’ll meet my brothers and my sister. They’ll show me the cards they made for me. It will be awkward for a long time, but eventually we will feel like a family. It will be a Thursday when I decide to call Eileen and Eric “mom and dad.” We’ll all act normal, and then we’ll all cry and pretend we don’t notice.
I will grow up. I’ll graduate high school and get accepted to a university to study psychology and criminal justice. Officer Clay will come to my graduation. He’ll cry again.
I will become a counselor, a writer, and a victim’s rights advocate. I’ll marry a kind man who makes me feel safe, and we’ll have children. I’ll be overprotective. We’ll buy a farm. I will name it Moose’s Farm.
I will attend every parole hearing. He will never be released.
——————–
I stand by the bars that hold him in captivity. Officer Clay stands nearby. My parents stand beside me. Eileen folds her hands. Eric folds his arms. They keep their promise not to speak. This moment belongs to me.
I watch him for a moment. He stares back at me. I can’t read his expression. I realize I don’t care what he’s thinking.
I think about everything. I remember it all. I think of the name he gave me, how hard he tried to make me forget my real name. To make me forget who I was. I try to find a name for what I’m feeling.
Eventually, I nod. It’s time. I take a deep breath. I say what I have come here to say. The last thing I will ever say to him.
“My name is Stacey.”
