Page 111 of We Already Dug the Grave

Fuck him. I dared another step closer.

“I said stop.” He yanked my sister violently, emphasizing his words.

Burt took the porch steps down to the lawn, passing Hattie-May’s body as if it were nothing. I stared at my great-aunt, praying for a gasp or a sudden rise and fall of her chest, but I saw nothing. The idea of Aunt Hattie, a woman so warm, so giving, who’d loved and raised two generations of Robbins girls, now dying in the dirt and grass while we all stood by stoked the rage and fear churning through me. I needed her to be okay. Needed everyone to be okay, but when I reached inside, rattled the internal door on its hinges, pressed my ear against its planks and begged for some clue, it was silent once again.

A sob escaped Ruth. She reared forward, toward Aunt Hattie.

“I said stay where you fucking are.” Burt’s grip slid from Frances’s arm to her throat. “We don’t want our baby bird to get hurt, do we?”

Bunny grabbed Ruth’s shoulder, urging her back as Mama and I froze, hands flying in front of us as if in surrender. For a moment, I was back in that meadow, watching my English teacher choke the life from my sister.

“What did you do to her?” Ruth’s voice wavered. “Why hurt Hattie-May? She’s an old woman.”

“She’ll be fine,” Burt said. “You all will, if you don’t try anything. I’m here for my wife and that’s all.” His eyes gleamed, tipping toward Mama’s panicked face. “How are you enjoying the reunion, mother-in-law? It everything you hoped for?”

Mama glared at Burt before her eyes again drifted toward Hattie, the woman still prone on the floor. I could feel Ruth, steady Ruth, trembling beside me, Bunny whispering to calm down. To think.

“Why are you doing this?” I pleaded. That place inside me—that pit or flower or something else altogether—had been still all day. But now it was paying attention. Alert. Whispering, get ready.

“Let her go,” I said, my voice forced into calm. “We’re all here—I’m here—just like you wanted.”

Burt shook his head slowly, confusion striking across his face. He looked down at Frances, little more than a rag doll with wild eyes. “What the hell do you mean, like I wanted? You think I wanted you?” He laughed, understanding dawning across his face.

Burt leaned close to Frances and inhaled the space of her neck, below her jaw. His voice was a low growl, but loud enough for all to hear. “God, I love how your mind works.” He sighed. “Took me a while to figure it out, but once I did… Your brain is such a turn-on, my little monster.” He paused, dropping a kiss lightly on her jaw. “This”—he gestured around the yard—“was genius. If there was a chance you’d get away from me, I have to say, this was it. But come on… Did you really think I wouldn’t figure it all out?”

Figure what out? I shook my head. “Frances?” I asked. “What’s he talking about?”

Burt laughed again. “Oh, you don’t know, yet? Let me give you a hint: Your sister is no one’s baby bird.”

“Frances?”

Her voice came out in a rasp. “Don’t listen to him, Milly. It’s always a game. He’s playing with your head.”

Deep, chuckling laughter poured from my brother-in-law.

Hattie-May moaned.

She’s alive. The relief was almost crippling.

“Please,” Ruth said, her voice desperate, her body tilting toward her as Bunny gripped her back, her hand now laced with Mama’s. “Let me see about her.”

“No.” The single word erupted from Burt. He cleared his throat, inhaled, and said in a lower tone, “You can check on her after we’re gone.”

Sarge the Second stalked across the porch and curled up next to Aunt Hattie. She didn’t move.

My sister’s eyes rolled wildly. At her side, her fingers twitched with our signal.

“Let her go,” I said again. “Please. You can have anything you want. Why keep someone who doesn’t want to be with you?”

“That’s what it seems like, huh?” Burt’s hand moved from Frances’s throat, to her hair, and he tugged her closer. “But your sister’s never leaving me.” His lips curled into a mean smile. “We know each other’s secrets. And we’ve made a few together too. Besides. She doesn’t want me to let her go, do you, monster? Not really. You’re only bored, that’s all.”

Frances blinked up at him, her bottom lip trembling.

A gurgling breath came from Hattie-May.

“Hang on, Aunt Hattie. Just hang on. It’s going to be okay.” Ruth bent forward, hands on her knees, leaning as close as she could toward Hattie-May without taking a step. I assessed the scene. Ruth desperate to get to Hattie. Mama with venom in her eyes, flicking from Burt to her daughter. And then Bunny, pulling Ruth’s shirt back, an unspoken order to stay still.

That’s when I saw it.