Chapter 12:

Sometimes I wish I could be strong like you.

It doesn’t matter.

Each time I wake I’m somehow feeling a truth

I can’t handle.

"Are you sure you’re ready for this?"

"Yeah, I’m sure."

"Well, you may be, but I don’t know if I am," Munky admitted nervously as Sheena pulled into the driveway of her parent’s house. They had moved out of Bakersfield after Sheena had gotten pregnant; she had sullied their reputation. It was bad enough that the mother of the family had MS; they didn’t need any more pity by finding out that the daughter had gotten pregnant by the town fag.

Sheena stalled in the driveway for a second. She smiled at Munky as he brought her hand up to kiss it. "I don’t know about this, but I’ll do my best," he said to her. As the door slammed when she got out of it, he undid his seat belt. He couldn’t understand why she wanted to come back. Why did she want to face such awful memories? He hadn’t at first understood what she meant by "going home". His shock had doubled and redoubled until he’d broken down crying. Only in his sorrow had she explained herself to him. He gritted his teeth as he got out of the car. If he saw her father…he hoped he wouldn’t. Hoped he still worked all day everyday as Sheena had said before. Because Munky didn’t know if he could control himself if he saw the man who ruined her life.

"Hello? Can I help you?" an elder female voice asked Sheena after she knocked on the door. She held her shaking hands behind her back as the door creaked. Opened. Her mother had changed a lot; the MS had set in full blast. It was a chore to stand upright. White hair sporadically replaced what had once been long, flowing brown hair, and her troublesome life had worn her down visibly. The creases in her face were not ones of happiness; the sorrow that offcast them made Sheena start.

"Don’t you know who I am?" Sheena asked as she looked into her mother’s eyes. She hadn’t seen her in five years. Sheena clung to the distant fact that a lot of things had happened since then…

"Sheena?" she asked. When her daughter’s eyes teared over, hers did too. "Sheena, my baby! Oh, my baby darling I oh My God."

Munky watched with mild interest as they flew into each other’s arms. He, for a second, entertained the notion that perhaps her father would have answered the door. He could already see the blood flowing from his nose…but no, it was the mother. That was a good thing. Sheena had informed him of her illness. Which was why when she noticed him and hugged him too he was careful to be gentle.

"Both of you. Come in! Come in!" The suburban Seattle air was chilly, and neither Jimmy nor Sheena was used to it. It was only at 50, but they were piled in coats and jackets. They came into her house. Unlike the other one they’d had in Bako, this one was small. It was somewhat dark in the house, and it took Sheena and Munky’s eyes several seconds to adjust.

"Do you want a coffee? Anything?"

Shivering, cold tears coursing down her face in a stream of happiness, Sheena said, "Yes. I would like that so much, Mom."

They sat and talked for a long time. Munky settled into this house. It was nice and small and unbelievable homey. Her mother was a wonderful woman, he decided, as her hospitality never faltered despite her illness. She offered them so many things they knew she could not afford to give. They refused nicely every time. She offered them to stay with them in her house; they declined, for more reasons than one. And then it was a car. Or maybe a computer to make up for the five birthdays, Christmases, and Thanksgivings they’d missed over the past five years—

"No, Mom. We’ll be fine," Sheena assured.

The doorbell rang. Sheena’s pregnant older sister waltzed into the door with her fiancé. Sheena couldn’t believe her luck.

Her sister had been tough and skinny the last time Sheena had seen her. She had gotten a crew cut and loved her hair short—she was a tomboy—and was the star of the soccer team. Unlike Sheena, she’d been a virgin going to college, totally uninterested in boys. Obviously, things have changed, Sheena thought to herself as she carefully hugged Diana through her bulging middle. A lot had changed.

Diana’s heart soared at the sight of her sister. She looked the same. Exactly the same. Nothing about her had changed. Two sisters, they looked into each other’s eyes and knew everything the other had been through, what they’d done, how they’d changed, in the past five years. The mother and daughter bond could never compare to what those two sisters had…they could just look at each other and know. Late night talks in the room they’d shared for years informed Diana of Sheena’s constant incest. She had wanted to tell, but by that time Sheena had been in fifth grade; nothing had happened between her and her father for five years.

Until that fateful weekend. After they’d dropped Diana off at college, Sheena had called her. And Diana had known from her sobs that it had happened again.

She, unlike everyone else, knew who the father of the baby was. Still did. Knew she didn’t have it now as they exchanged that look. Her mother assumed the same thing; it would only be five by now. She would have brought it with her. Sheena knew what was lingering behind everyone’s tongue. She partially hated them for it.

Munky was overly courteous, offering Diana his seat when she came to the table. Diana’s fiancé was black and tall, definitely a basketball player. His short black hair clung to his head, and a rim of tiny reading glasses gave him an aura of intelligence. Munky took the large, dark hand in his tan one and shook.

"Nice to meet you. My name’s Jim," he said.

"Same here. My name’s Dan." He had heard about this entire episode. He didn’t know who this man was. Figured he was Sheena’s present boyfriend. Until he saw the ring on Sheena’s index finger. The softness of Munky’s hand partially startled him. Munky didn’t look like someone with a desk job. It was pretty evident that Dan was an athlete. But what did Jimmy do?

"Munky?"

"Yeah?"

"Huh?" her mother asked. In her joyous mood she burst out laughing.

"What?" Sheena asked her mother. It slowly dawned on her, and she smiled. At first the name had seemed odd to her too, but then she’d gotten used to it. Sheena often called him Munky when they were alone together… or during sex…which frightfully amused him…

"It’s my nickname. Everyone calls me that because I have monkey toes," he explained as he went to Sheena. Her mother nodded her head as tears of laughter glistened in her eyes. Diana rubbed her stomach. She hadn’t seen her mother this happy since she’d found out that she was going to be a grandmother.

"How does anyone get a nickname like that?" Dan wondered aloud—kindly.

Munky explained as he leaned against the counter and sipped on his now lukewarm coffee. "Well, I don’t know. A lot of people don’t know my real name. I get called that in public all the time because I’m a guitarist. In a band called Korn."

"Korn?" Her mother had to bite back laughter once again.

"Yeah. It’s a stupid name, but—it pays the bills." He shrugged. Looking at him, Dan realized that Munky definitely looked like someone in a band, what with the crazy hair. He was awfully quiet. Danny had hung around with bands—rap clans—and they were all obnoxious. Now that he thought of it, he had seen KoRn on kid’s t-shirts sometimes. Weird kids. He smiled nicely.

Her mother couldn’t stop smiling, even though it physically hurt to do so.

After five years, she had her daughter back.

Sheena was content with this, very content, but there was still a piece missing. Her older sister was here—yes—but her younger sister should only be fourteen. About there—she wasn’t sure. She was nine when Sheena had left, the tears glistening in her eyes. Chrissy had always been aloof, not half as close as her sisters were to each other. But how Sheena’s heart had throbbed when those tiny arms wouldn’t let her go, how she banged on Sheena’s thin stomach, hoping the baby would just die so she wouldn’t have to leave. If anything, that was the memory that made Sheena think of her little sister. She was about to ask a question, but her mother answered everything.

"You play guitar?" she asked. Munky nodded. "So does Chrissy."

"Yeah! Where is she?" Sheena asked, almost too enthusiastically. She prayed Chrissy was home today, that she wasn’t sleeping over someone’s house, as Sheena had done almost every day since she hit adolescence.

"She’s in her room."

"Can I go—" she asked. She ushered Munky to come with her, and he reluctantly did. He was immersed in an interesting conversation. Dan and him had been talking about how stardom goes to your head, how he was surprised at how friendly Munky was. He often didn’t get compliments like that from fans or even coworkers. Sometimes, even, Munky believed that he had given into the cliché and become the utter asshole so associated with fame and fortune. Dan assured him that he was laid back. But the soft hands and the hair had given him away as a rich boy.

"Poor people have dreadlocks," he said good-naturedly.

"Not like yours!" Dan called after them as Sheena and Munky excused themselves and headed up the stairs. They paused outside Chrissy’s room. It was decorated with a myriad of posters, all of them communicating the same dark message. "Get Out of Here If You Are Alive." "Keep Out." "Leave me alone." "You Suck." The potency of this scared Sheena…knew her mother hated her having such signs with such messages. Sheena knew she tried to stop Chrissy, yes, but failed because of her affliction. Was Chrissy rude enough to put things like this up and not care? This was not the sweet and innocent little girl that had cried as Sheena was dragged away into a taxi.

The truth that calmed her an hour earlier now haunted her: a lot of things can happen in five years.

And looking at the sweet face of a man that had once been so cruel and calculating confirmed one thing: People change. Oh, God, do they change.

Sheena opened the door slowly, hearing the creak as it revealed Chrissy’s room. As she’d suspected, it was plastered with pictures and posters of rock bands like Marilyn Manson, Slipknot, a deformed picture of the Backstreet Boys, and—to her surprise—a few Korn posters. In the corner unique candles of hands and skulls burned. A cloud of incense snaked its way around Sheena’s waist. Clothes were littered everywhere carelessly. Sheena, out of curiosity, held up a pair of black felt pants. The waist was tiny, childlike, and the pant leg allowance was for that of a stick.

Munky saw tears well in her eyes as she made her way into the room. Underneath a black KoRn blanket—something her friend Heather had made for her for her fourteenth birthday—snuggled Chrissy. She lay underneath the covers, curled up tightly at the end of it.

It was three-o clock in the afternoon.

Sheena slowly peeled back the cover. First came Chrissy’s feet; delicate and small, the toes painted a rich black. There was a tattoo of a skull on it—done by an amateur, something her mother had never noticed. Sheena was shocked that she would have a tattoo at such a young age, but continued on. Her legs were sickly thin. Her knees threatened to poke through her ghostly pale skin. Her waist was covered in a tiny black T-shirt. Her arms wrapped around her body, and after a sigh Sheena revealed her face. Her doll-like face contorted in sadness. Her hair was died a ghastly black with blue streaks. Sheena exchanged a sad smile with Munky.

"Chrissy. Chrissy. Wake up."

With one spasmodic stir, she sprang up in bed. Pushed away Sheena’s hands frantically before she opened her eyes. When they shot open, and she saw a woman looking at her, tears glistening in her eyes, she sat, stunned. With foggy thoughts she recognized her sister immediately.

"Sheena? Is that you?" she asked. Sheena noticed her filed wisdom teeth. Shivered. They looked so real. Chrissy ran her tongue over them. Sheena noticed the bulb against her front lip as she did. She had a tongue earring, just like Sheena.

"I have one too."

"One what?" Chrissy asked as she struggled out of bed. She picked up the pants that Sheena had randomly held up. She slipped them on as Sheena watched. They were baggy on her.

"A tongue earring." Sheena forced a shaky smile. She opened her mouth and showed her sister. Then Chrissy did something she hadn’t done in a long time; she smiled. Walking over calmly, Sheena wrapped her arms around her tiny sister. She might break her if she hugged too hard. Munky stood behind them; marveled at her room. It smelled wonderfully of incense…the faint smell of smoked pot flittered in the room. Sheena didn’t detect it, but Munky did with his pointy nose.

"Munky?" Chrissy asked as she saw Munky, in disbelief. She recognized him from the posters on the wall. He stood uncomfortably in the corner. She ran to and carefully shook his hand. She had no grip.

"Yeah, Munky. My real name’s Jimmy. Nice to see you."

Even though tired, she still had her wits about her. "What are you doing here? Am I hallucinating?"

"No, I am Munky. I’m engaged to your sister."

After Chrissy had absorbed this, they offered to escort her downstairs. She was reluctant, but finally did. All watched Chrissy pitifully as she sat her narrow ass at the table. Her mother refused to look her way. When she mentioned to Munky that she had a guitar as a conversation sprouted between the adults in the room, they left and went to her room. She looked suddenly uncomfortable. Warning him to stay outside, she went to retrieve it.

She locked the door behind her, separating them as she entered her room. Chink.

She came back with her guitar a minute later. It was a deep blue; Ibanez…to his shock it was a seven stringer. He couldn’t figure out how a tiny girl like Chrissy could handle one of those things, but she did with surprising strength. They headed downstairs.

"Mom, where do we keep the permanent markers?" Chrissy asked as she shuffled through the drawers. Her mother told her which one…and sure enough, one was there. She popped the cap, and offered the guitar to him. He signed it in his tall, thin cursive. It pained him to do so; he was going to be related to this girl soon…why did she need his autograph? But he signed anyway. Then, with her permission and as all assembled in the living room, he sat with it across his knee and began to play.

He’d given up on the power chords—they sounded awful without the amp—and so fiddled with five chords and two scales until he’d made up a song. It took him about thirty seconds to do. Dan’s dark face was visibly impressed.

"Do you still have my drum set?" Sheena asked, genuinely curious. She wondered if they sold it.

"Yeah," her mother admitted. They kept it, she said, in the basement. It was probably gathering dust in the garage, or unassembled, but they had it—

"No," Chrissy said quietly. Everyone looked at her as she opened her mouth. She told her mother, "I took it out about a year ago and set it up. I play it sometimes. I’m okay at it."

"Cool!" Munky said. Then he fell silent as he realized that everyone was looking, concerned at Chrissy. Sheena smiled wanly at him. The three headed down the stairs. It was dark and musty in there, cold, the steep wooden stairs threatening to snap under Munky’s weight. Sure enough, it was there. Munky noticed that it was almost as extensively decked as David’s; Sheena obviously spent a lot of money on it as a teen. Sheena smiled when she saw it. Chrissy disappeared behind it and came back with two drumsticks. Sheena played a drum roll. Munky gave Chrissy her guitar, which he had been holding. She played a little part on it, and Sheena quickly picked up a beat. Chrissy turned one of the amps down there louder. Chrissy was surprisingly good. Munky was pleased as she handed her guitar to him, and sat down in Sheena’s place at the drums. He found out that she was very modest as she kicked out a tune that would have impressed David himself. He’d never guess by looking at her that she had the strength to play the drums as she did. Or play the guitar with such tiny hands. But she managed it.

She was a latent talent.

"Are you in a band?" Munky asked after she’d wiped the sweat off of her brow and sat next to him on a crate. When they’d moved out of their large house and into a smaller one, they’d kept most of their possessions in the cellar. Her shoulders crunched together, Chrissy quickly answered no. She had no interest to, either.

Someone knocked on the basement door to their left. They all jumped. Chrissy walked over to the door. When she saw who was on the other side, she snapped the curtain to the door window shut. Sheena made her way to Munky; sat next to him. Watched her.

The door knocked again.

"Go away!" she told whomever it was angrily. Her voice was a poisonous hiss.

"Why, Chrissy? Please?" It was a young male, definitely. She finally sighed and opened the door. A tall, thin boy entered the basement. He had black hair, like her, and he wore a black cape that showed off his polished nails quite nicely. Sheena smiled at her; the smile quickly subsided as Chrissy reminded him that the only reason she let him in was because she had nothing better to do.

He looked slightly swayed at this comment, but then bit it back and smiled to himself. He was obviously interested in Sheena’s presence as soon as he saw her. She was pretty, of course. But, to him, not as pretty as Chrissy. Tom was getting tired of these shenanigans. She promised him that she’d go out with him if he gave her that tattoo. She hadn’t kept her promise. She liked him, she said. But whenever he touched her, whenever he tried to make a move on her, she told him she needed time.

She needed so much time…

"Are you—are you--?" he sputtered as Munky held up her seven-string, to lay it aside. He ran to him, shook his hand, asked for his autograph. Munky gave it to him willingly.

"Oh, wow," was all he kept saying. Sheena introduced herself to Tom, and she told him that she was her sister.

"Chrissy, I just came over here because I was wondering—"

"Wondering what?" she asked, annoyed, as she dusted off the cymbals. Sheena helped her, more immersed in their conversation than in her task. She remembered playing those drums at the talent show, as her and Jon had disassembled them in her house and set them up at the school. They’d done it in silence; Sheena knowing that if she’d started talking to him everything would spill out. She had taken a chance by bringing him back into the house; if her mother or father came home Jon would be dead, for sure. But they had risked it. She remembered so vividly how young he looked, how confused—

"I was wondering if you’d want to go with me somewhere, like—I don’t know—the movies or something. I heard ‘End of Days’ is a really cool movie. I could take you, if you want—"

Chrissy’s hand faltered on the cymbal. "I wish. But my dad will be pissed off if I go anywhere."

Munky’s teeth gritted as she mentioned her dad. He hoped they would be gone by the time he came home.

"Why? I’m sure if you just tell him—"

"Just go away, Tom," she said suddenly, turning away from the drum set. Sheena told him that he should stay, but Chrissy shot her a stony look and insisted that he go. She pointed to the door. His hands flew from his pockets and he protested, but she was firm.

"But—Chrissy—"

"I appreciate everything, Tom. But didn’t I let you in? I let you in this time. Now it’s time for you to go."

"But—"

"Dammit!" Chrissy said as he disappeared behind the door. "Just go and leave me alone."

Outside, Tom leaned his pale forehead against the basement door, and let a sob break through. What he felt for Chrissy he couldn’t understand. Why did she always pull away? He saw the look she sometimes gave him, the look that told him he was special to her. She’d cry sometimes, so bitterly that all he wanted to do was bury her in his arms. But she’d always pull away. The only time he’d touched her was the time he’d fondled her tiny ankle, hearing her grit her pain away with her filed teeth. It wasn’t fair. The water vapor in his breath condensed into a white cloud. They had never smoked pot together; maybe if they did then he could see her happy, and understand why he felt so much for her.

But he had never seen her smile. He was so confused. He wanted to start walking away, and would’ve, if he hadn’t have heard the footsteps approaching the door again…

"Chrissy," Sheena said, offering solace to Chrissy as she dashed up the stairs. Munky sat, shocked. He walked to the door and opened it. He told the waiting boy there to go to the front door and knock again.

"Sheena, leave me alone—"

Chink as the door locked.

"Chrissy, let me help you!"

"Go away, you don’t understand. You and Diana could never understand—" her sobs penetrated Sheena’s heart. Beneath Chrissy’s palsy exterior was a pain, a pain that Sheena had known. A pain that Sheena had tapped into several times before.

"Will you just let me in?"

Silence. The door unlocked. Sheena carefully walked into Chrissy’s room, and sat down next to her on her bed. Chrissy sat, her hands squeezed between her thighs. Her bony wrists showed through her skin.

"Why do you hate him so much?" Sheena asked as they sat. This was the first time she talked with Chrissy like this. She remembered that Chrissy had always been "too young to understand" what her sisters talked about when they talked about sex or guys or swearing. By the way she acted, Sheena could tell that her sister was an outcast socially. As she remembered the looks her family had given her, she realized that she was an outcast in her own family.

"Because I’m not ready to fuck him."

"What?" The answer shocked Sheena. "You don’t have to. You two are only fourteen! He doesn’t want to have sex with you—"

She nodded knowingly. "He will. He will." Then she put into words what Sheena had felt all those confused teenage years, summed it all up so perfectly that tears slid down her cheeks. "All guys will. They give me this look, Sheena. They know I’m weak. They all give me this look and I can just see it. I see that they just want to tie me down and fuck my brains out. But I take it. Because I’m a girl, and I just have to bend over when they—"

"Do you think that Jim takes advantage of me when we sleep together? Do you think that? Do you think that Dan and Diana are in love if when they have sex he takes advantage of her? I could invite Jim up here right now. If you looked into his eyes, could you see him doing that to you?"

The question hung in the air. Chrissy looked at Sheena with large, young eyes, the same eyes that Sheena had seen the day she was shipped off. Chrissy had known what sex was, vaguely, knew that Sheena had done it.

Chrissy had lost her virginity the next afternoon. She thought that if Sheena had gone through that much pain to make the baby, it would surely be that painful to have it.

Why?

"Jimmy’s different," was her conclusion. Chrissy pictured Jimmy’s eyes in her head, large and soft. She could read the thoughts behind her cold ones. They weren’t dangerous.

"Yes, he is. You know what, Chrissy? I’m gonna tell you something. Dad raped me when I was a kid. And when I told Jimmy that he broke down crying like a child--"

"He raped you, too?" Chrissy asked. Her large eyes burned into Sheena’s. A hand rose to Sheena’s breast. She couldn’t believe it, now that it was put into words. She had seen the pain—had known all along, in fact—but now that it was put into words her heart was tripping. She knew that she should be crying, that she should be freaking out, planning to murder her father for the awful things he was doing to this family, but she was numb. So numb.

"Yeah."

"He’s coming home, tonight. That’s why I can’t go with him. That’s why I won’t go with Tom."

"But you can go with Tom. Get out of this house. You’re beautiful," Sheena insisted as she ran a hand down her streaked black hair, "and you should be able to go out with a boy if you want. It’s all a part of growing up."

"But he’ll want to have sex with me, eventually, Sheena. I know it," Chrissy insisted. "I know him. He will."

Sheena remembered the look in Jon’s eyes; his soft whispers as his fingertips buried themselves in her breasts….

"Maybe he will. But what Dad is doing to you is not sex. It’s rape."

Chrissy contemplated her words. She shook her head. "He’s so heavy, Sheena. And he almost crushes me whenever he—he holds me down—my wrists—"

The two girls burst out crying as Munky entered the room. "Sheena," he said. He sat on the bed between the two girls; took them both in his arms. Sheena grabbed for him. He embraced her. She cried into him as Munky asked her what was wrong.

Chrissy observed the two beside her as Munky cradled her sister so lovingly. He handled her as if with the notion that he could snap her in half, his fingers so gentle. She wiped tears away so she could see better. There was a fading hickey on Munky’s tan neck; she noticed it when Sheena pulled his dreadlocks back. Tears welled in his eyes as his shirt soaked with her tears.

"Shhh. Shhh."

To see her sister cry like a child made Chrissy realize that she wasn’t alone. Her sister suffered through the same torture, the same humiliation. Now she had someone that cared for her; a grown man that would cry for her, beg to love her. To have real sex with her. Sex that made her feel good. Chrissy came closer to Munky. The first thing she noticed was how much bigger he was then her, how he could take her—take both of them—if he just wanted to. Next was his scent—it wavered over her, filling her wonderfully.

Yes, this was what Chrissy had always wanted. Tom was like this.

She planted a soft kiss on Munky’s cheek. Noted the soft stubble that did not yet plague Tom’s face. He turned to her; gazed at her with confused eyes. Then, as a tear dropped, he let go of Sheena, and went into Chrissy’s arms. She needed this. Needed to be held. Chrissy was at first apprehensive of his large frame, but then gave into it. He didn’t moan or shudder when she moved closer to him as her father so often did. He even let her clamber onto his lap. There was no tension there. And she hugged him, kissed his cheek, just cried like a real father should with a real daughter. He let go of her eventually, and kissed her on the lips. Because of their hug they were no longer strangers.

After a minute she climbed out of Munky’s arms. He took each of their hands in one of his; kissed them both. "I don’t know what’s going on, but I have an idea. I swear to God, Sheena, I won’t be able to handle it if your dad comes home. If you can call him that.

"I never had a father, but if I did and he did something like that to me or my sister I would have killed him myself. I care about you more than I care about myself."

"Munky, don’t—"

He stared into Sheena’s eyes as he stood up, and said with uncanny sincerity, "I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself around that fucking bastard."

Someone knocked on the door. Munky’s hands flew into his lap.

"Chrissy? Please. Let me in, okay. I—I really like you. And if you don’t want to listen to me I’m going to tell you anyway because I just can’t take this bullshit anymore—"

Tom opened the door to see Chrissy there. Her pale face was stained with many tears. He didn’t see Sheena or Munky hugging until Chrissy had settled herself into Tom’s arms. His body tensed against hers. So did she, but calmed down when he only held her. He wanted to kiss her, but declined. A minute passed like this, until he had to pull away. He could imagine her annoyed or scared face as she felt the large erections that he couldn’t control. For the past two years he’d had trouble keeping himself calm—

"Sorry." He said it immediately. As soon as she felt it and tensed again.

"It’s okay," she answered. It really was. Everything was.

They went back downstairs in a large posse; settled themselves down on the couch. Time passed slowly: 5-o clock, 6-o clock, 7-o clock, and 8-o clock. At the tick of each hour Munky awaited the inevitable. He insisted to Sheena at about eight thirty that they should be going, but Sheena said no, that she wanted to stay. His anxiety built up. How could she stay here, knowing very well who’d be home any second? The sooner they left, the better, Munky figured. Danny and Diana soon left—Diana was really tired these days. Tom’s mother came to the house to pick him and Chrissy up to take them to the movies. Which left Munky, Sheena, and their mother alone.

Way too late, her mother offered to make them a grand dinner, something like lasagna. But the couple declined. Instead, Sheena made some hotdogs. Munky didn’t eat. The hotdogs were fine; the tumor of hate growing in his stomach was about the size of a lemon by then. And justly so.

The door opened behind him. Daddy was home.

"Well, lookie who decided to come home. Welcome back, baby," was his greeting to a daughter that was plagued with nightmares every time she fell asleep seeing his face. A large scar ran from the far corner of his face to the crook of his lip. It distorted into a zigzag as Sheena stood from her meal and hugged him.

Munky couldn’t believe it. She was smiling and happy, radiant almost. Radiant at the sight of the man that ruined her life. He looked down at his plate, untouched.

In a moment it dawned on him the real reason she had come back. She had come back to face her father; tell him that everything he had done was okay. Munky wanted to blow chunks as the news hit him head-on. It was just one of those things. Sheena grinned at Munky happily over his shoulder as she hugged her tall and strong father. His legs tightened as he hugged her. Munky entertained the notion that he was thinking of all the things he’d done to her and rejoicing that she was still his little girl.

"Where’s my dinner?" he demanded of her mother. Her mother’s face kerplunked into dreary darkness as the troubles of her marriage came rushing back. Munky had taken a liking to Sheena’s poor mother; forced himself to speak.

"Here," he said, offering his lukewarm plate to the man he hated more than he hated the devil himself. "I’m not hungry. You can have it."

A chill ran up his spine as her father regarded him for the first time. The gash splitting his face crinkled again as he smiled, cold and calculating. "Who are you?" he asked as he sat, accepting the food. He took a ravenous bite of the hotdog as he waited for an answer. Munky was seized by the sudden impulse to kick him in the nuts from across the table. He knew he could do it; his legs were long enough. Sheena’s look was warm and pleading. It begged him to accept something he could not accept. Ever. The pain this man had put them through would never squeeze an apology from him. Never.

"I’m Jimmy."

"Oh. So what are you doing here?"

"Um, Dad? He’s my fiancé," Sheena said. Her father froze in mid-chew. An awkward second of silence passed. Then he swallowed. Munky felt like a trapped rat. He had to get out of here. He watched as Sheena finished her meal. Then, he stood up and said casually, "Sheena? Remember? You have that meeting tomorrow? We should get going; it’s a long drive."

Her father’s face immediately shot up. Sheena reluctantly stood. She didn’t have to look at Munky to read the anger in his face. Her father said kindly, caution lurking behind his words, "No! Don’t go. Stay. I mean, if it’s such a long drive then you guys can spend the night—"

"No!" Munky said, a little too harshly as they walked to the door. He was convinced that her mother had detected his bitterness as she rubbed against him. Sheena suddenly excused herself to go to the bathroom. It was the worst thing she could do. Munky was suddenly left in the same room with her father. He felt the energy building in his fists, threatening to punch their way out. Now that his daughter was gone, her father, too, knew there was no one to stop him. His sorry excuse of a wife didn’t care less what they did.

"So—uh—you’re engaged to my daughter?"

"Yeah, I am," Munky said indignantly. Her mother slipped in a word edgewise, saying that he was a very nice—

"Shut up!" her father ordered harshly before she could finish. He reached out and snatched her wrist, so fast that her mother screamed horrifically. Munky was planted to the ground. He knew the door would set him free…why had he let Sheena take him here…why had she wanted to come…why had Munky let a woman have so much control over his life that he would kill for her…?

"So, do you come from LA, you fucking half-breed?" he asked more harshly. Her mother’s mouth worked in surprise. She would have apologized for his rudeness, if his grip hadn’t painfully tightened on her wrist.

"No. I’m from Bakersfield, like you. And I am Mexican, for your information."

"Native American, Puerto Rican, Mexican, half-nigger. You all look the same to me," he answered. Then, under his breath, he muttered the words that set Munky over the edge. He was a gun. His words, like a confident finger, had aimed and pulled the trigger. His voice was low and breathy as he stared toward the door. He said, "I can’t believe my daughter is fucking some half-nigger."

"WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT, THEN? HUH? WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU CAN YOU SON OF A—" he started. The last word was replaced with a punch that loosed the father’s grip on his wife’s hand and made his world explode in black. It didn’t take much to rebreak the nose…it took even less to resnap it as Munky watched on in horror at what he’d done. His heart racing, repeating over and over "I know you did it! She told me! You fucking rapist I hate you I hate you I HATE YOU I FUCKING HATE YOU!"

Her father quickly spun around and backhanded Munky with a blow so fierce that for a second he thought his face would collapse. Salty blood dripped from his mouth, and he let it drop onto his shirt. Her father bear hugged him from behind as her mother watched in horror. Munky fought him viciously, watching in satisfaction as he dealt punches. Pain exploded just as often, however, as her father’s strong fists made contact with his stomach, his chest, his face. The same hands that had held Sheena down wrapped around his neck.

As his breath shortened he kicked and wailed, fought with his hands to free himself. Blue dots appeared and popped like bubbles in his vision. The spittle of her crazed father drooled onto his chin, mixing thickly with the blood that spurted onto his nose. "Bitch," he grumbled.

Bringing his long knee up, he kneed her father in the crotch. His expression flew to pain and he crumbled on top of Munky. Munky immediately pushed him off as the pain of the blow unraveled. He stood on shaky legs and kicked. Kicked. Kicked. His feet communicated the anger, the hate, the humiliation that his love had been through.

"You raped her you stupid bastard, I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" Munky screamed wildly. As Sheena entered the room. The betraying look she shot him made him hot with anger. How could he do this to her? she exploded. All she wanted was to make amends…to do what was right! What her father had done to her was over! All she wanted was to be with her family again!

Didn’t he understand? She forgave him!

"How? How could you forgive him for raping you? For getting you pregnant, Sheena. How could you?" he asked in a tiny, breathless voice. Then, inevitably came, "What’s wrong with you?"

"What’s wrong with me?" Sheena asked in disbelief as she got a cold compress for her mother. "What’s wrong with you?"

"I love you." As if that was a plausible answer. He expected her to reply, expected her eyes to soften and for her to run to him as the words came from his mouth. She didn’t. Only reprimanded him.

"He’s changed," Sheena insisted. Munky said that no, he hasn’t, thinking about the racist and sexual remarks he’d made to him as soon as Sheena had left. He hadn’t changed at all.

"Come on, Sheena, let’s talk about this at home," he said as he pulled his car keys out of his pocket. They would pull over on the side of the road and he’d talk to her, tell her it was okay, convince her that he’d done what he had because he loved her so—

"I don’t want to go home. This is my home now."

He turned around. Only stared at her vacantly. He thought about the puppy he was going to get her, the one that she had seen in the window at the mall one day as they’d walked past. He thought about the ring adorning her finger. Thought about the passionate nights they’d shared, and the passionate nights they would share…

"Can’t you see? I’m home now. I have wanted to." Her eyes glistened with tears. She walked up to him. Touched him gently on the shoulder, not in the manner of a lover but in the manner of a friend. "I was afraid to come home, because I knew this would happen. No, my father hasn’t changed. But that’s why I need to stay. My mother is dying, my sister needs my help, my other sister is going to start a family…" she trailed off. Her heart throbbed in correlation with his as she continued on softly. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

Chink.

"I need to stay here. Need to make things right."

"But, Sheena—I love you. You just can’t leave me like this. We’re going to get married—"

"No, we’re not. I’m sorry. I just can’t do it. I can’t do this. Not now. I’m not ready. I have unfinished business here."

Silence followed. He told her softly that she could keep the ring. That whenever he saw it, that he think of her. "Maybe in a couple years—"

"No, Sheena. Be quiet. Just know that I’m doing this because I love you, and I want you to be happy. If this makes you happy, then so be it." He turned. With a solitary look, he walked out the door and into a loneliness he had not expected ever again to face.