Luna Station Quarterly - Issue 018 Read online

  I wanted to shout those words, but they came out in a whisper. Pa went dead silent.

  “I saw you, standin’ by the car with your cigarette. You didn’t set up no tent, Pa. I know that just as much as I know that you never could have come up with that idea on your own. Debra must have put you up to it.”

  I waited for his excuses, but he just sat there, squirmin’. I’m surprised I didn’t burn a hole through his face, there were so much hate burnin’ in my eyes.

  “She’s not gonna live here no more,” I said. “She’ll come back to get her stuff but that’s it.”

  “Gretel,” Pa said, annoyance in his voice. “You can’t order me around-”

  “Yes I can!”

  I jumped up from my chair. It tumbled backwards with a clang.

  “Listen Pa,” I said. “That story Hansel told you... well it ain’t no story. We went through a lot out there, thanks to you and Debra. I kept my side of things quiet with the cops, but if that woman ever sets foot in this house again, I will tell everyone about what you both did: the school councilor, the librarian, everyone.”

  Pa’s mouth hung open. I wanted to knock all of those crooked teeth down his throat with one swing. Instead, I kept on talkin’.

  “And you will start pickin’ Hansel up from school every day,” I said. “The kid’s not even seven years old and he never sees you. Spend some time with your son. Play catch with him! And if you don’t, I will make sure everyone knows what a horrible parent you are.”

  My body trembled as I spoke. Pa said nothin’ in return, just stared at me with his wide eyes. I shook my head, and went to the bedroom. It took a long time to fall asleep.

  *

  It’s been months since we got lost in the woods. Pa’s kept his word about pickin’ Hansel up from school every day. Even plays catch with him on the weekends. Hans’s lost a little bit of weight, but not so much that he don’t look like himself no more. I learned how to do the laundry so my clothes don’t smell. It’s made me better at goin’ to school. Debra came back to the house a couple times, but only for her stuff. I think she once thought that she could change Pa into somethin’ she liked the look of better, but us comin’ back messed everything up. Now, she wants nothin’ to do with us.

  There are nights when I wake up, convinced that my bed’s a cage, and that every shadow is Fred. And my nightmares? All of them involve Hansel in that oven. He seems to have forgotten most of it. Only talks about how we got “lost in the woods that one time,” not Mrs. Danvers, or the kitchen with the large oven, or even the house out in the woods.

  There must be a piece of him that still remembers though. Nothin’ else could explain his new found hatred for gingerbread cookies.