A Girl Without a Name

"Run! Run!" she whispered. "Hide in the woods before Daddy gets home!"

I sprinted across the field and down into a gully and along a path by rock-faces where Croft Run brings cool sweet water, even in summer. After a time, I found my way to the family cemetery and the safety of the hillock where I could see anyone approaching from any direction, even at night.

Exhausted, I stopped at the mossy log, got on my knees, folded my hands, and prayed to have the wickedness taken out of me.

And then I heard the coughing and sputtering of Daddy's pick-up truck coming down the wash-board road. Even this far away, the early evening otherwise calm, I could hear my mother shouting angrily as my father drove up. I did not hear the words, but by their tone I knew what she must have told him.