and fighting over the pieces is because I put the word out that you belong to me. But what would happen if I changed my mind and said it was open season on my little Lennie girl? What if I decided that you weren’t gonna be of any use to me after all?” His hand tightens slowly, and I draw in a final strangled breath before my windpipe is completely restricted. I claw at him, desperate for air, while he eyes me coldly. “Lennie, trust me on this, you’d rather be dead than let them other people catch up with you.”
Spots appear. I try to blink them away, but they multiply. And then darkness and then . . . he releases me. I gasp and choke while he strolls back to his desk chair as if nothing’s happened.
He smiles and again the coldness in it is enough to make me shiver. “I’ll give you time to think about coming with me.”
“I don’t need time.” I take a step toward him, but stumble. The room whirls around me. It must be from the oxygen loss. Squinting to focus on Cash, I finish my thought. “You’re right, I’d rather be dead than have anything to do with you.”
“Don’t be hasty,” Cash counters. “Sleep on it and maybe you’ll feel differently when you wake up.”
“When I wake up? But I’m not even—” A gigantic yawn interrupts me. And just like that, my eyelids start to droop. For a moment I think Cash’s power of suggestion is so great that he can even make me feel sleepy, but then I trip over my water bottle and realize . . .
“You drugged . . .” I trail off, my lips too heavy to finish forming the words.
“It was good seeing you again, Lennie,” Cash says as I collapse to the floor. “We’ll have to do this again soon.”
No, I think. No. No. No. I fight to keep my eyes open, but it is a losing battle. They fall hard and heavy, like a dungeon door clanging closed, and an instant later, I am asleep.
DOWN AND OUT
I wake up stiff and cold and still half dreaming.
In that dream world, I am six years old and my father is yelling at me.
“Say it,” he demands. “‘May all your wishes come true, or at least just this one.’”
I tremble, scared and confused. The awful man looks like my father, but this mean face is not the one I’m used to seeing. Still, I try to say the words the way he wants. They come out wrong, mixed up and half forgotten while snot runs into my mouth.
He brings his hand up and I wince. Instead of hitting me, he slowly brings the hand back down. Smiles. Says he lost his temper. He’s sorry. I deserve a treat.
We go to Chuck E. Cheese’s. Sitting outside in the parking lot, he reminds me of all the delights to be found inside. I nod eagerly, my hand on the doorknob. “Wait,” he says. “Not yet.” Then he brings out the jar of moonshine and tells me we need to do the toast first. I start to tremble once more, not wanting to mess up again. Daddy tells me to focus, his voice hard and unbending. Somehow I do.
“To being invisible—” That big word trips me up a bit, but I somehow get it out and then continue on, “except for when you want to be seen. May all your wishes come true, or at least just this one.”
Daddy takes a swig from the jar and passes it to me. But I don’t want to drink the moonshine. I push it away and the jar falls and gushes out all over the floor mats. Daddy grabs the jar and smashes it into my face. “Drink it, damn you!” He grips my shoulder with one hand while the other pinches my nose. The lid of the jar grinds against my wiggling front tooth and, afraid that I’ll swallow it and won’t get a visit from the tooth fairy, I finally open my mouth and let him pour the moonshine down my throat.
I am still gagging and coughing when he drags me inside the Chuck E. Cheese’s, his mood changed once more, telling me how much fun we’ll have. I hide in the ball pit and he is looking for me when they come. Calling my name. Demanding I come out. I am the reason he does not run away until it is almost