Malice Read Free Page A

went to bed. There was nothing else to do. She didn't want to read or watch TV, the chores were done, there was no one she had to take care of. She just wanted to go to sleep and forget everything that had happened … the funeral … the things people had said … the smell of the flowers … the words of their minister at the graveside. No one knew her mother anyway, no one knew any of them, just as they didn't know her, and didn't really care. All they wanted and knew were their own illusions.
    “Grade …” She heard her father knock softly on the door. “Grade … honey, are you awake?” She heard him, but she didn't answer. What was there to say? How much they missed her? How much she had meant to them? Why bother? It wouldn't bring her back anyway. Nothing would. Grace just lay in bed in the dark, in her old pink nylon nightgown.
    She heard him try the doorknob then, and she didn't stir. She had locked the door. She always did. At school the other girls made fun of her for being so modest. She locked the doors everywhere. Then she could be sure of being alone, and not being bothered. “Grade?” He was still standing there, determined not to let her grieve alone, his voice sounded gentle and warm, as she stared at the door, and refused to answer. “Come on, baby … let me in, and we'll talk … we're both hurting right now … come on, honey … let me help you.” She didn't stir, and this time he rattled the doorknob. “Honey, don't make me force the door, you know I can. Now come on, let me in.”
    “I can't. I'm sick,” she lied. She looked beautiful and pale in the moonlight, her white face and arms like marble, but he couldn't see them.
    “You're not sick.” He knew her better than that. As he talked to her, he was unbuttoning his shirt. He was tired too, but he didn't want her locked up alone in her room, with her grief. That's what he was there for. “Gracie!” His tone was growing firm, and she sat up in bed and stared at the door, almost as though she could see him beyond it, and this time she looked frightened.
    “Don't come in, Dad.” There was a tremor in her voice, as she looked at the door. It was as though she knew he was all-powerful, and she feared him. “Dad, don't.” She could hear him forcing the door, as she put her feet on the floor, and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting to see if he could force it. But she heard him walk away then, and she sat shaking on the edge of the bed. She knew him too well. He never gave up on anything that easily, and she knew he wouldn't now.
    A moment later, he was back, and she heard an implement of some kind jimmy the lock, and an instant later, he was standing in her room, bare-chested and barefoot, with only his trousers on, and a look of annoyance.
    “You don't need to do that. It's just the two of us now. You know I'm not going to hurt you.”
    “I know … I … I couldn't help it … I'm sorry, Dad …”
    “That's better.” He walked to where she sat, and looked down at her sternly. “There's no point in your being miserable in here. Why don't you come on into my room and we'll talk for a while.” He looked fatherly, and disappointed by her constant reticence, and as she looked up at him, he could see that she was shaking.
    “I can't … I … I have a headache.”
    “Come on.” He leaned down and grabbed her by the arm, and pulled her from where she sat. “We'll talk in my room.”
    “I don't want to … I … no !” she snapped at him, and pulled her arm out of his hand. “I can't!” she shouted at him, and this time he looked angry. He wasn't going to play these games with her anymore. Not now. And not tonight. There was no point, and no need. She knew what her mother had said to her. His eyes burned into hers as he looked down at her, and grabbed her harder.
    “Yes, you can, and you're going to, dammit. I told you to come into my room.”
    “Dad, please …” Her voice was a thin whine, as he dragged her from the bed,