What Am I Going To Do?

By Amethyst Turner

What am I going to do out there?

All I have is a pretty face and some blonde hair

Am I going to be another nobody?

I really can't help but agree

XXX

Libby poured milk over her cheerios, thinking about how her sister used to pour her milk first. She frowned, scooping up a lump of soggy cereal in her spoon. How do you know how much milk you need, if you pour it first?

She brought her bowl over to the couch to enjoy her breakfast in the light of the new lamp Richard had brought home last night. And, he'd promised, come October? They would have heating. Finally.

Bringing the spoon to her mouth, Libby wondered why she ate cheerios. They tasted like sawdust and looked like sculpted pencil shavings. She shrugged to herself shoving the spoon in her mouth. Because she was goddamn hungry, that was why, and there wasn't much else to eat if she did want a bourbon/beer cocktail.

She'd have to mention this to Richard. Some fresh fruit would be nice, maybe some yogurt.

The phone rang. Libby sighed, taking another bite. It made a chalky mush in her mouth, like vomit . . .

The phone kept on ringing. Annoyed, Libby yanked the phone out of the cradle and slammed it back down again. The person called back.

"What do you want?" she growled, swallowing.

The person cleared their throat. "Is this Mrs. Turner?" She grunted for way of answer. The voice sounded familiar, but she couldn't place it. "I'll take that as a yes."

The man cleared his throat, and Libby suddenly recognized his voice. Damn Davey Springs. She slammed the phone back into its cradle and didn't answer again although the phone rang periodically all day.

XXX

Minka felt too agitated to drive, so she made Rubin do it for her.

They'd been on the road for almost six hours, only stopping once for breakfast. Rubin had nearly fallen asleep at the wheel once, but Minka still wouldn't let him stop. They'd left at four in the morning, now it was nearly ten. She needed to get to Maryland as soon as possible.

She didn't feel the joy now, that she had yesterday when Davey had called. Now, her stomach bubbled with worry and nervousness. because she knew that although she was driving toward Amethyst, she would never get her back.

The girl would inevitably return to her parents, and Minka would return to the circus. And all would be normal again.

At least now she knew Aimee was alive. This knowledge lifted a great weight from her shoulders, and had even allowed her to sleep nightmare-free for three hours in the car.

The three bears sat in the backseat, waiting much more patiently than Minka. Their beady black eyes watched the back of her seat, burning calm yet accusatory holes into her back. She knew she deserved these glares from Amethyst's stuffed animals. All of this was her fault.

She wondered if Amethyst would jump into her arms when she arrived. If the girl would cry or laugh with joy.

Minka knew she'd cry. Her lost Kochanie, raised from the dead. How could she hold the tears back?

She held on to hope. Maybe, just maybe, she could keep Amethyst. If they could prove her parents abused her and that she didn't want to go home.

"Hey, Mink?" Rubin's sleepy voice said.

"Hmm?"

And then, as if he could read her thoughts, he said, "Don't get your hopes up."

XXX

Annelise was glad to be out of the hospital. Ever since they took little Davey away, her room had stunk of death.

Now she laid in bed at home, Clark serving as a divider between she and the girl.

She just watched the child. Amethyst had a picture book in her hands, one Davey had bought for the baby and had given her to read. She'd gone through it three times already, but didn't ask for a new one. Instead, she flipped back to the beginning and pored over the blocky back text again, turning the thick pages ravenously, as though she had never read anything so fascinating.

When Amethyst reached the back cover for the fourth time, Anne cleared her throat. "What are you reading?" She asked, like she'd just walked in.

Amethyst looked up, blue eyes shining with something like excitement. "It's about monsters," she informed Annelise.

"What's it called?"

"Where The Wild Things Are."

She nodded. "That one's a classic. Can you read it to me?"

The little girl's cheeks flushed rosy red. She looked away, ducking her head so that Clark's back hid her face. "I don't read very good," she mumbled.

"How about this," Annie suggested. "We can take turns reading pages. I'll do the first one."

Hesitantly, Amethyst nodded. She sat up, passing the book to Anne. Clark had fallen asleep between them, and didn't stir when Anne read the first line.

"The night Max," she began, "Wore his wolf suit and made mischief of one kind." She flipped the page and asked Aimee, "Do you know what mischief means?"

"No."

"It means causing trouble." She passed Aimee the book, watching the child pore over the illustration with a little frown.

She patted Clark's folded eyebrow, asking, "Why is he trying to eat the doggy?"

Anne chuckled. "Because he's a wild thing."

XXX

Leafy looked out the stranger's window, wondering about Heaven and Hell.

Thou shalt not kill, he knew this. Only, now, he felt certain that he had heard a voice, had felt a hand guiding his: the hand of God. That he was no longer alone in this.

So, did the same rules still apply when God was on your side. Could you kill, if it was for the Lord? Had Abraham brought down his sword on the neck of Isaac, would he have been cast down into Hell?

Surely not. And so, Leafy felt certain that he would be saved as well.

A higher power had positioned him here, in this strange man's truck, driving across the border from Pennsylvania into Maryland.

The man didn't talk much. He played loud distasteful music and chain smoked, flicking his cigarette butts out the window when he finished with them. The smoke wrapped around Leafy's face, choking him, but he didn't say anything. Didn't even open his window.

He was thinking about his next move. The next place God was pushing him to go. The next blood he must spill.

"What's yer business up in Mary?" The man grumbled, breaking his two hour long streak of silence.

Leafy smiled.

"Visiting an old friend. You?"

XXX

my mother tried to pick me up
when I was sittin' down on the ground
something forced my little eyes come open
but I couldn't make out the sound
it doesn't matter cause my eyes are lying
and they don't have emotion
don't wanna be social, can't take it when they hate me
but I know there's nothing I can do

-Do, The White Stripes