Part IV: Spin – The Mermaid Dress: #9 (Chapter 68)

I jumped. The pictures dropped to the floor, scattering, a house-of-cards falling upon itself.

The empty can pinged to the floor and rolled into the wall.

Daddy hunched over me, scowling, like he was about to hit me.

“Please, I was scared.” I closed my eyes, waiting for his hand to strike.

It never came. I opened my eyes.

Daddy put the pictures back into the envelope. He looked around and shook his head. “Why, Princess, why did’ya do it?” He picked up the can.

“I dunno.”

I thought I saw tears in his eyes, but that was silly. Grownups didn’t cry, after all.

He crushed the can, squeezing it with one hand. “Guess I shouldn’t have left you kids here alone. Just look at this mess. Your mother’ll be upset.”

“I didn’t mean to do it.”

“I know, honey.”

“I’ll be good from now on.”

Daddy took me into his arms and held me tight. “Look, your mama doesn’t even have to know about this, okay?”

I nodded.

“I’ll pick up all this stuff. You go wash up. Give me the wig.”

I pulled it off and handed it to him. He picked some hairpins out of the pageboy and placed it back on the form. He brushed it, just like Mother had taught me to do.

“And don’t forget to brush your teeth. You smell like a brewery.”

In the bathroom, I scrubbed my face until it felt raw and exposed. Still, some of the makeup remained, especially the black smudges around my eyes. I brushed my teeth with a toothpaste that squeezed out of the tube like a candy cane.

I suddenly had to pee, and I almost didn’t make it to the pot, and once there, I thought I’d never stop, but I did.

As I started out of the bathroom, Nana’s warning:

You’ll get hydrophobia if you don’t wash your hands!

I didn’t know what hydrophobia was, but it must have been bad, and I was sure little kids died of it every day.

I washed my hands with Ivory, like Nana had taught me, rubbing them together, the soap foaming into a rich lather. I rinsed my hands under hot water.

Daddy Platts inspected my face. “This’ll never do.” He took a Coets and smeared it with Pond’s cold cream. Gently, he wiped the cream around my eyes. I breathed in deep.

I loved the sweet milky scent and taste of cold cream.

Sometimes, when no one was looking, I’d dip my fingers into Mother’s Ponds and then lick them clean.

Daddy cleaned my face. “About those pictures – they don’t mean a thing, okay?”

“I guess.”

“They’re fake. Remember that.” He took my face in his hands. “Looks clean enough. Let’s do something about your hair.”

“Okay.”

With Mother’s brush, he gently brushed my hair. “You’re going to be beautiful someday, just like your mom.”

Never.

Even though the room was hot, I shivered.

I’ll NEVER take off my clothes in front of strange men.

Daddy finished brushing; he braided my hair down my back.

His approach gentle, tentative, his fingers not used to braiding a girl’s hair.

“Okay, finished,” he said. “I’d better get you to bed.” He picked me up and carried me into Ruby’s and my bedroom. He laid me on the bed, straightened out the rumpled sheets, and tucked me in. He bent over and leaned on his hands.

“They’re gag pictures, you know.” He kissed my forehead.

I’d never known Daddy Platts to lie before, but he was lying now.

Who could I ever trust, if not Daddy Platts?

He stood in the doorway, his ruddy face lined and drawn.

I’d never noticed before, but his silver crew cut was too long, his hair falling into a natural part down the middle. His hand was on the light switch. “Sammy?”

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t see the pictures, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good night, Princess,” he said as he turned off the light.

“‘Night.”

As the door clicked shut, the monster stirred underneath the bed, but I was too tired to care.

Now there were scarier monsters to fear, ones that would follow me day and night.

Tomorrow, I would worry.

Now I just needed to close my eyes and forget about everything.

As I drifted off, I realized I had never heard Mother sing one note, not even the Marlboro song.