That's right Kirby. Some stuff for you to read. twisted
Collection Day
“Collections play an important role in our lives. At some point in each of our lives, everyone has a collection. So, for your assignment, due next Friday, you will be required to bring in a collection of your own and give an oral report on what your collection is, why you collect it –in other words, its importance to you– and whether or not you believe you will continue collecting whatever it is at an older age.”
The bell rang. The students rose as one and dashed for the door, none wanting to be stuck in school a millisecond longer than they had to be. It was the weekend, and all good Friday plans had to be executed ASAP, before some tragic emergency disrupted them.
I too was anxious to be gone to put my own plans into action. Hampered by my crutches and the dead weight of my ankle, I had to shove my way through waves of students who were much more mobile than I to make it to Espy. My best friend since diapers stood at her locker, twirling the dial slowly, making sure to hit each number in the combination exactly. Smoothly she pulled up the handle, dragging the door open. Espy did everything deliberately, never yanking or tugging.
“You got your stuff all here and packed, Espy?” I asked excitedly, as impatient as the rest of the teenage population of the world to be free of the confines of the school building.
“Just hold on a minute, Elisha. It’s not like Randi will leave us here if we’re a few minutes late, especially with your cast,” Espy retorted, continuing to place books carefully into her worn out pack.
I rolled my eyes dramatically, swinging on my crutches to occupy myself. “Oh, yes, she would. Well, not with you around. For some odd reason beyond my comprehension, she loves you.”
“Well then, as long as you stick with me, you won’t be left either.”
With an exasperated sigh, I whipped out my cell phone, a good grades present from my folks, and pressed the four button, speed dialing my sister, more commonly known as Randi, or, to me, That Pain Across the Hall.
“What, Elisha?” She had me on her phone, too, if only to block my calls when she wanted. “Are you coming out anytime soon? I do have a life besides chauffeuring you around to your heart’s desire, you know. Of course, you never think to look outside your own puny world and see that other people have things to do, too. After all, this is my weekend home, and if you think that–”
“Chill, Randi. I’m waiting for Esperenza. She’s getting her stuff for the weekend. Remember, she’s coming over? I’m sure I told you.”
That did the trick. Randi’s voice immediately changed to that of a concerned mother. “Oh yes. Do you need me to come in and carry anything for you? Here, I’ll pull around to the front of the school so you don’t have to drag it all too far.” She disconnected, as usual, without saying good-bye.
Despite Randi’s worries, Espy didn’t actually have all that much with her. All her clothes and other things had been shoved gently into the bag with her books. How it manage to hold so much (they had three subjects of homework that required books), I had no idea.
Zipping it up carefully, she slung it over her shoulder and turned from her locker to face me. “Ready to go yet?”
“Well, yeah!” I exclaimed, then I saw the teasing crinkle of her eyes. I gave her a small shove on the shoulder in revenge. Not noticing the crinkle left when I did so, I went on happily, “Ready for this weekend? It’s going to be an all-girl, all-the-time… time!”
“Sure,” she said simply. Esperenza was a good friend for someone who loved to talk, hated to listen, and loved someone who would do it for her.
“‘We’re gonna stay up late, swapping manly stories, and in the morning… I’m making waffles!’” I quoted from one of our favorite movies.
“Well, if you’re going to be making them, I think I’ll pass. Randi on the other hand…”
I giggled; my sister was a regular Martha Stewart. I, however, was lucky if I didn’t burn toast. “Yeah, I think we’ll leave the cooking to her.”
As promised, Randi had pulled her old beaten up Cadillac right up to the front door. Usually she waited way out at the back of the parking lot, at the further spot from the school, claiming the exercise was good for me. She even opened the door for us to get in, an act I was sure wasn’t just because of my cast. Randi always turned into the world’s best older sister when Espy was around.
“You girls all settled back there? Crutches and backpacks all settled?”
“Yes, thank you,” replied Espy courteously. “How’s school treating you, Randi?”
She hit the jackpot. Randi had no lack of enthusiasm for her college. “I am so glad you asked, Esperenza!” Out of sight in the backseat we grimaced. Espy hated her given name, saying it was much too exotic for her tastes, but Randi loved strange and unique names and used them whenever she could. “Daniel Webster has everything I could have hoped for, especially now in my second year. I’ve learned so much this past semester. I wish could have started out in sophomore classes.
“I was actually hoping to get in a bit of practice on Elisha this weekend, but something tells me that’s not going to happen seeing as she’s been avoiding me ever since my car pulled into the driveway–”
“–I might just be hiding from your crappy car, you know, though avoiding being called a psycho is a good reason too–”
“–so I need another person to evaluate. I was wondering actually if you might volunteer, Esperenza. It’s pain free and cost free, since I’m asking you to do it.”
Espy hesitated, a flash that looked almost like fear flashing through her eyes. “Uh, no… No thanks, maybe next time you come visit.”
“Okay, that’s fine. Then I can learn even more before I try myself a real live person.” Randi chattered on about her college all the way to the house.
The rest of the afternoon and that night were spent talking and giggling, just as any two girls would do to pass the hours. The next day we took a half hour walk around the block. It wasn’t actually all that far, but hampered by my crutches and needing to rest my arms made it take much longer.
When we made it back to my home again, I flung open the door. Crowded into the living room was a group of people, all with smiles on their faces identical to the one on mine.
“Happy birthday, Esperenza!” they cheered.
Espy just stood there, gazing around the room, searching for something. Then she disappeared into the thick crowd around her cake. I followed, pulling her to a more secluded area to talk to her.
“Surprised?” I asked, laughing.
“What? Oh, yeah. Sure,” she replied hollowly, glancing back nervously over her shoulder.
“‘Omigawd! Like, I’m so, like... like speechless! Like... I dunno, like, what do I say? Omigawd! I LOVE YOU! Like this is totally like... OMIGAWD, ELISHA! I’m, like, so surprised!’” I mocked and tapped her lightly with a crutch. “Come on, Espy, it’s your birthday. You gotta put more excitement into it.”
She sighed, “I’ll try. Um... that’s my dad over there, right?”
“Well, yeah! You didn’t think we would forget to invite him, did you?”
“No, it’s just–”
“Well, go talk to him! I’m sure he wants to wish you a happy birthday,” I urged. “Go on. I’m just going to go get the candles for the cake.” I left without a backward glance, hoping Espy would go without me dragging her. She was acting so weird…
I found the candles easily, sitting in the cupboard. I grabbed a handful and hobbled back to the living room, sticking them into the frosting. Realizing I was one short, I made my way back into the kitchen.
Suddenly, I heard a noise in the pantry. Suspecting some teen had decided to try and find some candy or something, I yanked open the door. There, huddled near the back, was a shadow. The noise I had heard was crying. I shaft of light hit a bright green sweatshirt, one I recognized immediately.
“Espy? What’s wrong?” I asked, stepping in the pantry, not bothering to turn the lights on.
“Nothing.”
“Oh, so you normally spend your birthdays crying in a pantry?”
“No… usually I go to my room; but your pantry was closer.”
I stood in silence for a moment. Then I reached out to wipe her cheeks. I felt moisture… and something else. Espy wrenched back from my touch, but not quick enough. I flicked on the light switch.
Bruises covered arms. A large red mark spread across her face. The odd thing I had felt was swelling, something I had remembered from the feel of my ankle when I had broken it.
“Who…?” I queried softly.
“No one. I’m fine,” Espy retorted, stumbling to her feet. She swept out of the room even as I reached out again.
“Espy!”
I swung myself out of the pantry, cursing the impediment of my crutches. My mother stopped me in the hall. “Where’s Espy? We’re going to cut the cake now.”
I thought fast. “She’s sick: puking. I sent her up to lay on my bed.”
“Oh, dear. I’ll go check on her,” she started for the stairs.
“No!” I cried, lunging forward. I was only guessing she was there, but it wasn’t worth the risk. “I’ll go check. Could you deal with the people?”
“Oh, oh, yes. I’ll do that, you go look after your friend.”
Shuffling up the steps, I made my way to my room. She was there alright, cowering on my bed.
“Espy,” I began, stepping into the room.
“Don’t tell anyone, please?” she pleaded. Her eyes were filled with tears.
“But… who… no, I can’t…” I stammered.
“My dad, but please, I don’t want to cause any problems.”
“Well…” I said, coming over to her and sitting down on the bedspread. I wrapped an arm around her. She winced at my touch, light as it was. That did it for me. I stood up.
“Where are you going?” she asked, panicking.
“To tell Randi,” I replied, and limped as quickly out of the room as possible before she could stop me. To stop me now, she’d have to leave, risking being seen.
I pushed open the door to my sister’s room. She looked up irately from her book. “What? I thought you were down at Esperenza’s party… oh my…” Randi trailed off. I turned around. Not thinking anyone would be up here with the party going on downstairs, Espy had given chase.
Randi leapt up from the chair she was sitting in. Going to Espy, she took her hand and dragged her from the room. Espy didn’t even fight back. Now that Randi knew she seemed to have given up; I might have been persuaded into remaining silent, but Randi wasn’t so easily convinced.
The living room was empty now of all but my mother. She also took one look at the bruised girl before taking her straight to the kitchen.
All that happened after that was a blur. My mother put Espy on the kitchen phone and sent me up to my room, saying that she would be up in a few minutes. While I was there, I thought of all the times I had hit her in jest. How stupid I had been. Espy came up after that with Randi who informed me that Espy would be staying with us for a while and that I was to lend her any of my things that she needed. We sat in silence for a long time after that. We didn’t even move for lunch.
Finally, late that night, my mother came in to tuck us in something she hadn’t done since I was seven. As we lay in bed that night, I opened my mouth to ask the question that had been on my mind the whole time, only to find that I couldn’t bring myself to ask. Instead of “How long has he been hitting you?” what came out was, “So, do you know what you’re bringing for Collection Day?”
I hadn’t expected a reply, but one came anyway, one I’d never forget. “My collection of bruises, the one I bring everyday, but no one noticed. Not that I wanted them too –remember my never wearing shorts or t-shirts–, but it might have been easier, you know? This is easier too. Now I don’t have to hide them. That’s what I’m bringing: my bruise collection. If only I hadn’t had to go through all that trouble to get it.”
“Well, now you don’t have to worry about collecting them anymore.”
