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EVE KNOX
Friday, December 22, 1995
1:45 p.m.
Eve trudged up the hill toward home. She was starting to feel guilty about the way she’d yelled at Nola but then made herself stop. Why did she do that? Eve was always the one to feel bad when it was Nola who was in the wrong.
A stitch gnawed at Eve’s side and by the time she reached the top of the street she was sweating and out of breath. She loosened her scarf and leaned against the grimy telephone pole and bent over to examine the hole in her jeans. Her knee had stopped bleeding but bloodstains dotted the fabric. Damn it, Nola, she thought. Why did she have to be so childish? So mean? It was bad enough that Eve was constantly keeping their mother, who was so easily overwhelmed, on track with the bills and household chores, but she also had to serve as Nola’s protector and moral compass. It was too much sometimes.
As she approached her neighbor’s house, Eve crossed the street. Though the Olhauser home, a pretty periwinkle blue, with its sharp peaks and fanciful latticework appeared to be straight out of a fairy tale, the place made Eve uneasy. The son, Daryl, gave her the creeps. In his early twenties, Daryl would show up periodically at his mother’s home for weeks, sometimes months at a time and from Eve’s vantage point did little to contribute to the household.
To be fair, Nell Olhauser was a great neighbor. Petite and stooped, Nell would bring them freshly made lefse sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar and warm apple cake as thanks for shoveling her walk or mowing her lawn.
It seemed like Daryl would emerge from the house every time Eve would get home from school or Nick’s. Like clockwork, he’d come out onto the front steps blinking rapidly into the bright sun as if he’d just woken up from a nap or had been waiting for her in a darkened room. He’d light a cigarette and watch her pass by. Through the haze of cigarette smoke, Eve could feel the heaviness of his eyes on her as she rushed into the safety of their home. Daryl never actually said anything. Eve couldn’t remember a time when they ever exchanged a greeting but she knew she didn’t like him.
She tried to tell her mother about how he made her feel like one of the bugs that Nola collected and pinned to index cards. Like she was a specimen, something to be examined, probed. Her mother just laughed and said that she should be flattered. She was a pretty girl; of course men were going to look at her.
Nola, on the other hand, had no problem calling Daryl out. What are you looking at? Nola would yell when she caught him staring at Eve. Or Take a picture, it’ll last longer. Daryl would just smile lazily and blow a ring of smoke their way. Eve would hiss at Nola to shut up, to not encourage him.
Maggie said she had the same experiences with Daryl and the two finally went to Chief Kennedy to complain. He’s gross, Dad, Maggie said. He just stands there and stares at us. Eve nodded her head in agreement. It freaks us out.
Chief Kennedy finally walked over to Nell’s house, knocked on the door and went inside. Maggie and Eve watched anxiously from the window until he materialized thirty minutes later with a foam plate filled with star-shaped butter cookies. He shouldn’t bother you anymore, the chief said, holding the plate out to the girls. But if he does, just let me know.
Daryl still stared, though he tried to be less obvious about it. Now he watched out of the corner of his eye and Eve thought she could see shadows from behind windows. Whenever she was home alone, she made sure the curtains were closed tight.
Eve closed the front door and locked the dead bolt. Then she ran around the house, checking to make sure that each window and the back door were also locked tight. If only they had a dog, Eve thought and then caught herself. A sharp yelp of laughter erupted from her chest and she clapped a hand over her mouth.
Eve had begged for a dog for years, but her mother always said no. They were too busy; the house was too small; the girls were too irresponsible to take care of it. Now Eve wondered if there was more to their mother’s decision. Had she known, on some level, that a dog, a pet of any kind would be in danger in this house? It was an awful thought.
Eve took the stairs two at a time and went directly to her bedroom. She lay back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling with its opaque stars that glowed in the dark when she switched off her bedside lamp. How had everything gotten so out of control, she wondered. Eve tried to push the thoughts aside and in the quiet stillness of the empty house her eyes grew heavy.
When Eve opened her eyes again the clock next to her bed read 2:45. With a sigh she slid from the bed and blearily made her way to the bathroom. She locked herself inside, wriggling the doorknob a few times to make sure it was secure. She hoped that Nola wouldn’t come home anytime soon. Her mother worked until at least seven.
If she was lucky, she’d have the house to herself until her mother came home that evening. Eve pulled off her shirt, catching a glimpse of the bruises that Nick had left behind. They were so ugly, made her feel so ashamed. At least it was the middle of winter and she could wear long sleeves and pants to keep the bruises covered until they faded.
Eve slid her jeans down, pulling them gingerly over her scraped knees. Why was it that every single person who claimed to love her found a way to hurt her?
Eve stared at herself in the mirror looking for an answer. Was there something in her eyes or in the way she held her head that said, Pick me, I’m weak. I won’t stand up to you. But she did stand up for herself. She broke up with Nick and she stood up to her mother the night before. When Nola pushed her, she pushed back.
Eve turned the shower handle to the hottest setting, running her fingers beneath the spray until steam began to fill the room. She stepped over the lip of the tub and let the water stream over her body. Someone had used the last of the shampoo so Eve grabbed the chunky yellow slab of soap from the edge of the bathtub and rubbed it into her hair. Its sharp medicinal smell burned her eyes and nose but still she scrubbed and scrubbed her body until it ached.
She rinsed the suds from her body and then lathered up again trying to get the lingering smell of Nick’s cologne and the stench of the dead dog from her skin. Eve knew she had to be imagining the odors that she was sure were clinging to her skin. Nick barely touched her today; the dog was too far away for her even to catch a whiff, but still the scents were there and when she finally stepped from the shower her body was rubbed raw and pink.
A sudden rap on the bathroom door caused Eve to startle and she pressed a towel to her mouth to stifle a scream. “Eve,” came Nola’s raspy voice. “I’m home.”
Eve remained still, the water sliding down her body and into a puddle at her feet.
“Eve.” Nola knocked again. “Open up.”
Eve ignored her.
“Are you hungry? I can make you a grilled cheese,” Nola offered.
Eve wrapped a towel around herself and ran a comb through her wet hair.
“Come on, I know you’re in there,” Nola said, frustration creeping into her voice. “Just come out. I want to talk to you.”
Eve was used to Nola’s attempts at apologies. They were always the same. First, Nola would pretend that nothing had happened. That there was no argument or harsh words. Then she would offer to do something nice for Eve. Wash the dishes for her or vacuum the living room or make her a grilled cheese sandwich.
