Page 2 of Rescuing Mary

“I knew you had your eye on her! Shame on you, lusting after a nine-year-old. You think she can suck your dick better than me?”

“Jesus H. Christ! I don’t have an eye on your daughter. Are you sick or somethin’?”

“Don’t bullshit me,” Mama told him. “I knew from the second I introduced you that you wanted her.”

“I feel sorry for you. No—I feel sorry for your poor daughter. It has to suck having you for a mom.”

“Fuck you! I’m the best thing that ever happened to her.”

“What a joke,” Uncle Ron said, then laughed.

“I’m not a joke!” Mama screeched. “You are. All men are! You were all too happy to move in here because you knew you’d get your cock wet whenever you wanted. But the second I ask you for help, the strings come out. I’ll buy you booze if you suck my dick, baby. I’ll buy you food if you let me fuck you up the ass. You’re all the same! You don’t give a shit about me, selfish bastard!”

“Maybe if you opened your goddamned eyes, you’d see what’s right in front of your face. You’re gonna ruin that sweet little kid. Mark my words. She’s gonna turn out just like you.”

“Of course she is. I’m her mama!”

“I’m outta here,” Uncle Ron said. “I’m sure you’ll find another sucker to take my place within the week. Don’t forget to feed your kid. She can’t live on alcohol and drugs like you can.”

“Good riddance!” Mama screamed.

Mary heard a door slam and she held her breath. The words weren’t anything she hadn’t heard before when Mama had fights with the uncles, but she was kinda surprised that Uncle Ron had brought her into the argument. Most of the men didn’t care about her, and Mary had learned to stay quiet and out of the way.

She waited for her mama to come in and give her the speech she now had memorized. She’d been giving her the same tired speech for as long as she could remember.

“Mary?” her mama called. “Get out here!”

Sighing, Mary rolled out from under the bed and headed for the door. She knew if she didn’t, Mama would just come looking for her and drag her out.

“Men suck! Got that?” Mama asked when Mary was standing in front of her in the small living area of their trailer.

“Yes, Mama.”

“All they want is to get you in bed. They’ll take, take, take, and take, and won’t give a flying fuck what you want.”

“Yes, Mama.”

“If a boy tells you he loves you, what does he really mean?” she demanded.

“That he wants to sleep with you.” Mary was old enough now to know that when a boy slept with a girl, they weren’t actually sleeping. They were having sex. She knew all about that too. Mama had described what that was in detail two years ago. It sounded gross to her, but Mama seemed to like it enough.

“And once he sleeps with you?” her mama demanded.

“He’ll leave.”

“Exactly. Now go away. My head hurts.”

Without another word, Mary headed back to her room. Ignoring her growling tummy, she grabbed her thin comforter, the one Uncle Thomas got for her, and her pillow, and crawled back under her bed. Under there, she could pretend that she was someone different. That she lived in a big house, had a mama and poppy who loved her and said nice things to her. That they sat down at a big table heaping with food every night. She also pretended that she didn’t have a different uncle living with them every month.

Sometime in the last four years, Mary had realized that her mama wasn’t normal. Other kids had parents who would cook for them, wash their clothes, and wouldn’t sit around the house all day drinking vodka.

The big thing she never understood was, if her mama didn’t like men, why did she keep inviting them to move into the trailer with them?

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15 Years Ago, Age 15

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