It was full-dark before Tinkerbelle woke up under the bridge with me sitting at her side, calling her name. Paul was long gone. She awoke with a gasp and no idea where she was. I said my name and promised everything was all right. She got up touching at the side of her head with a hiss. I led her hand in hand along the riverbed toward my Tacoma. I wanted to get a good look at her head, at that nasty cut. I felt the blood on her temple. She was crying and asking questions I wouldn’t answer, except for one, and that’s are my parents all right? Yes, they were fine.
“Sweetie, we need to have a talk,” I said. “You’re too young to understand the seriousness of this situation, but you need to have faith in me. Will you? For me?”
She nodded, sobbed.
“First of all, you’re going to be all right from now on. I promise. Paul won’t bother you ever again. You have my word.”
“Kay.”
“You and I are in the same boat now. We both know something that we can’t tell anyone else. Anyone else. That includes your mom and dad.”
“I can’t lie,” she said.
“I know, but this time you have to. When I said nothing bad will happen to you, that will only be the case if you lie about tonight. When we get to your parents’ house, you’re going to say a boy from your church walked with you just to say he’s sorry about the scene he made the other day. After his apology he left. You decided to, I don’t know, go play somewhere. I guess you can be honest in where you were, the riverbed. It shouldn’t much matter. But how you got hurt is you tripped and hit your head on a rock. You must say that, Brooke. You cannot mention that Paul had anything to do with it. Tell me you’ll say that. Tell me you’ll lie for me.”
She was weeping hysterically now, but she nodded.
“Tell me, sweetheart. I need to hear you promise.”
“I promise.”
“Stick with the lie. I’ll talk to your parents and tell them the story before you get a chance to, so it should be easier on you. Just confirm what I say.”
“Why can’t I tell them the truth? Why don’t you want Paul to get in trouble? Paul’s a bad kid.”
“You’re too young to understand. I don’t mean that as an insult, it’s just the simple truth of the matter. Bad things will happen if word gets out. Really bad things.”
“I want to go home,” she said softly, crying.
I drove her home. Inside my truck I had a good look at her head, and worried she’d need stitches. She’d get by with some butterfly bandages, I supposed. Mostly I was relieved she wasn’t sexually assaulted. As much as I loathed Paul, I was fairly certain that he was honest in his remark that he had no desire to molest a child. Had Paul molested her, I’m not sure I’d have agreed to keep it a secret, even under the threat of killing Brooke. I couldn’t say what I’d do, but how on earth could I let that boy touch Brooke in a way that would scar her for life without avenging her? Thank God that wasn’t the case.
I myself looked like hell. My forehead was cut from the initial spill I took. At least my shirt concealed the damage Paul inflicted upon me with his foot. I’d have some scars come Sunday, when a hundred people would watch and listen to me confess some seriously horrendous things. I didn’t want to think about that just yet. I needed to get through tonight.
There were several cops parked at the Stanwick house. I pulled right up and reminded my companion of the severe consequences that would befall us both if she didn’t stick to our lie. She darted out of the truck to reunite with her parents who had watched us pull up and were losing their minds to excitement. I took satisfaction in their joyful expressions, their tender embrace. Her parents were crying harder than Brooke. Juliann had only just noticed her girl’s injury, ushered her inside to get a closer look.
I told our contrived story to the Stanwick’s and the cops. Nobody sensed it was lie, or they might have asked more questions. It helped that I was the girl’s Sunday school teacher, I’m sure. It attached credibility to my story. I was eager to get the heck out of there, and did before long. I winked at Tinkerbelle as I left.