To Walk In Light

Quiet.

Intense.

Stable.

None of these could really be applied to Lily. She was kind and friendly. The perfect typical girl next door. All fresh air and blue eyes, chocolaty curls and sunshine crooked grin. Never one for temper tantrums or mean spiritedness. She sat humbly in church beside her brother, parents and Nana, honestly thinking on the well being of others. Given to random fits of kindness towards humanity in general. Skipping along through childhood, into those heart quickening teen years, surrounding herself with brightness in all forms.

Doran took her at 15.

In just under 6 hours, Doran changed Lily’s world. Brutally turned and churned all the goodness she had around her and spilt it out again as so much dark waste.

Lily didn’t change so much. She became more quiet, less open. It was a failure to her soul to dwell on fear and anger. Tried desperately to push back the gathering thunderheads around her. She felt the stares, saw the pity reflected from face to face to face, like so many well-placed mirrors. She turned from them all… except two.

*********************************

Ethan was quiet, intense, stable. He had actually carried Lily most of the way back to town, covering himself in stains of pain and tears, talking quietly about the friend he once had. As they approached the town, he set her down and helped her adjust the coat that fell nearly to her knees.

“You okay, Lily? You oughta walk from here, if you can. Folk need to know you’re okay, you know? If they see you walkin’ chances are they call out to you, not run on up to check and see if you’re breathing if I’m carryin’ you…just…you know?” Ethan stared directly at her as he spoke and hoped to God he was making some kind of sense.

Lily simply nodded and set her lips grimly. She thought he meant to let her walk home on her own. She was none but surprised when he draped an arm companionably around her shoulder and pressured her forward.

The streets were dark, but they noticed a crowd gathered in a bright glow some yards ahead. Voices rose and fell with the breeze blowing by. A dark figure turned and called softly “Lily girl? ‘Sat you?”

The crowd turned as one and took in the two of them calmly approaching. No one moved or spoke. Carroll Hartensen moved out of the crowd and swiftly fled to his daughter, enveloping her in his arms. He said nothing, just clung to her like a rock as the crowd began to churn around them.

“She’s gonna need the doctor and something to eat…I, I didn’t think to bring anything. She’s hungry and tired, y’all, back off her now and let her daddy have her.” Ethan’s quiet voice cut through the chill air and everyone shuffled away to give the trio room. “Mr. Hartensen, you…you oughta see to her…injuries, sir. I’ll go fetch the Doctor to your place if you want, as such. Or, I could help you get her there…if you think that’s more according.”

“We’ll bring her there, Ethan, and…” Carroll’s voice broke as his tears began to fall. “…thank you.”

*********************************

The first few weeks were surreal. The Hartensen house was bustling with people coming and going, food and prayers served up almost hourly. But no one smiled. Voices were hushed. When Lily walked into the room, no one asked how she felt. They barely looked at her. She knew they were only punishing themselves for thanking God above it was her, and not their daughter, their sister…themselves.

Her friends turned to shadows. They scattered before her like she was harsh light, painful for them to look at. Some waved, some called out a rhetorical greeting, but they were still children. She would never be a child again. They clouded her sun, and that hurt most of all. She craved honesty.

Ethan was honest. So was her Nana Hartensen. Only those two weren’t afraid to say what a beautiful day it was. How lovely her hair looked, just so. How her bruises were fading quickly and should she need something from town, just ask. They weren’t afraid to be bright around her, and she coveted it.

Nana was there all the time, waiting to eat with her in the morning. Sitting next to her, knitting in warm, comforting silence. Asking her directly if she pained anymore (‘No, Nana, I feel mostly comfortable again’)…would she return to school soon (‘No, Nana, I don’t think I should go back, it would distract the rest somethin’ awful’)…did she want to learn how to knit (‘Oh, Nana! You’ve seen my stitching, you really wanna beat that dead horse?’)…did she like Ethan stopping by (‘Yes, Nana, I believe I do’).

Ethan came by regular to check on her. As she yearned for his understanding, he ached for her forgiveness. She knew he tore himself apart for not letting Doran go years before. If only he hadn’t dug him out of trouble so many times, he’d have been safely behind bars or hung somewhere for a lesser crime. He knew about the Core, where they didn’t kill rabid dogs anymore. Where there were hospitals for people like Doran. This was the Rim, and laws and punishment were meted out for the sake of those as had to live here.

It wasn’t attraction, or even friendship, it was simple connection between two people that needed each other. She could tell him how much she wanted to be plain again. He would fill her ears with normal gossip she pined for and talk about the different young boys at the mine who told tales about the young girls in town. He asked her, point blank, if the doctor thought any permanent damage had been done and nodded softly when she said no. She told him about how beautiful the new linen and cotton bolts were that her Momma had had shipped from the Core. She told him about how Doran had cried while he raped her, knowing somewhere deep inside that he was unfolding his own fate.

When she began to get sick, the casual visitors stopped coming. When the shepard questioned her parents, she stopped going to church. She sat at home and prayed with Nana on Sundays, while her brother and parents left the house silently.

When she outgrew her first dress, her brother moved out. She took his room. It was bigger anyway.

*********************************

“It’s gonna be a girl, you know.” Lily stated matter of factly to Ethan and Nana. “A big, chubby beautiful girl, with curls and roses for cheeks.” They sat, as they often did, Nana knitting in the ancient rocker, Lily hitched up on the wide porch railing, swinging her feet, and Ethan sitting on the porch step, back rucked up against the railing. Crickets chirred softly over the sound of Nana’s wooden needles and Momma’s near hysterical crying drifting out from the kitchen. Her father walked out the door and swept silently past them, surely meeting her brother at the bar.

“She’ll be a tall girl.” Ethan chuckled. Nana nudged him with her foot, good-naturedly.

Lily smiled and chuckled too. “So, she’ll be tall and a good student…or pretty…. and filch tobacco.”

“You’re both twisted, you know.” Nana mockingly scowled, before letting out a small laugh. “You oughta go get my spare needles, Lily and start learning to knit now. You’re gonna need all the practice you can get.”

“Hmmm, I can make a pretty little pink bonnet to flatter her coloring…”

“Or a gigantic pair of booties to cover her enormous feet.” Ethan muttered lightly.

The three of them fell apart with giggles, which quite adequately covered the sloppy sobs coming from inside.