He pulls me close and his curly hair is tickling my face and the burned smell makes my stomach jump and his Michelin Man arm is squeezing me hard and I do not mind at all.
Jessica is laughing and crying at the same time and joins our hug. I press my head against hers and both of our heads are gulping, breathing, wheezing, crying, laughing, and I do not know where her head ends and mine begins, as if she is a part of me and I am a part of her.
Rory is saying “Saaaaam” over and over.
I pull him into the hug, too, so he is surrounded by us and he is safe and we are all gasping with the same breath.
“Ma’am, you need to back away,” the paramedics say. “You need to let go.”
“No!” I shout. It sounds like a mighty rumble that rises from deep inside of me and breaks through my soul.
The paramedics step back but still hover around us, trying to get to Sam. They do not look happy. I do not care. I am not letting go of Sam.
There are police now, behind the paramedics. “Did anyone see who did this?”
“No,” a woman’s voice says. “They got away.”
I hear Jessica’s sob and I stand up, but I am still holding on to Sam’s hand. “I can tell you what happened.” It comes out loud and powerful. It is exactly how I mean it to be.
Everyone turns to look at me, the police officers, the paramedics, the people from Meeting—Phyllis is there, and Chuck and Laurie, and the lady who called me “dear” at the last Meeting I went to—and I see other faces I know, too. My heart is pounding and I can hear my breathing but I hold my head up because there is no need to cower anymore. I have faced the Beast and his power over me is gone. I am the one with the strong spirit.
I look around the Meeting House at the expressions on each face—questioning, worried, surprised, sympathetic, kind, proud. I do not even mind being in the spotlight. “I will tell you everything,” I say, my voice sounding thunderous in the silent room. “He will not hurt anyone again. It is over.”
Sam squeezes my hand and I look at him. He is smiling through his burned face and I smile, squeezing his hand, too. I reach out my other hand to Jessica and she grabs it, sniffing back her tears. And I realize I am crying also. But I am crying for everything that went before, all the pain that used to be.
Rory’s eyes shine up at me from Jessica’s lap. “Maa—? Tay?”
I look from Rory to Jessica to Sam, and I nod yes.
Even though I am crying I nod. “Yes!”
Kathryn Erskine, Quaking
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