Opal’s, tears blurring her vision. “They wouldn’t stop. I begged them to, but they…wouldn’t.”
The hairdresser made a sound of distress and drew Becky Lynn into her arms and against her bony chest. “Poor, baby. Poor, sweet child.” She stroked Becky Lynn’s hair, murmuring words, sounds, of comfort.
“They wouldn’t stop,” Becky Lynn repeated, reliving the horror of those minutes. “Buddy tried to talk them into leaving me alone, but Randy just stood there. My own brother—” She buried her face in Miss Opal’s shoulder.
The hairdresser’s hand stilled for a moment, then she resumed her rhythmic stroking. “Becky Lynn,” she asked quietly, “did those boys…did they rape you?”
She shook her head, sniffling, tears soaking the other woman’s blouse.
“Thank God for that.” Miss Opal took in a deep, thoughtful breath. “Did you tell your parents?”
Becky Lynn eased away from Miss Opal and met her eyes, her own still swimming. “Daddy wouldn’t have…believed me, and even if he did, he wouldn’t have done anything about it. And Mama, well…she’s got enough troubles of her own.”
Miss Opal’s lips tightened with disapproval, but she didn’t comment.
“Did you tell one of your teachers, a school counselor, or—”
She shook her head again. “I didn’t tell anybody.”
“Then we must decide what we’re going to do.”
“Do?” Becky Lynn repeated, stunned. “What do you mean?”
“Well, we can either go to Ricky’s and Tommy’s parents or to the police—”
“No!” Becky shook her head again, this time with growing alarm. She could imagine what Tommy’s and Ricky’s parents would think of her accounting of events, could imagine how the police would react. Within hours, Bend would be buzzing with the story about how that trashy Becky Lynn Lee lied about the stars of the Bend High School football team. She couldn’t bear the thought of people talking about her that way. She couldn’t bear the speculation.
Panicked, she clasped her hands together. “Don’t you see? Nobody will believe me. They’ll think I was the one…that I wanted attention. It would be awful, I couldn’t stand it.”
“You can’t let them get away with this,” Miss Opal said, her voice tight. “It isn’t right.”
“You didn’t believe me at first, why would anyone else?”
The older woman sighed heavily. Becky Lynn could see her boss struggle to decide the best thing to do.
“Please, Miss Opal. Please don’t tell.” Becky Lynn caught the older woman’s hands, fear coiling around her, squeezing at her chest until she could hardly breathe. “I’m afraid of what will happen if you do. They might—”
“What could they do, child? It’s keeping something like this secret that will hurt you. We must go to their parents or the authorities.”
“No, please…” Becky Lynn clutched Miss Opal’s hands. “Just promise me you won’t tell. Please.”
The hairdresser made a soft sound, part affection, part reticence. “All right, Becky Lynn. I won’t tell. For now. But I don’t like it.”
“Thank you, Miss Opal. Thank you so much.”
“But you must promise me that if those boys do anything to you, anything at all, you’ll come to me at once.”
Becky Lynn smiled. “I will. I promise.”
The woman touched Becky Lynn’s cheek lightly. “I don’t want you to think you have no one to turn to. Never again.”
5
Becky Lynn promised, and as the days slipped into weeks, she was filled with a sense of well-being and security. Partly because Ricky, Tommy and their gang never bothered her and partly because Miss Opal had taken to watching over her like a mother hen.
The older woman insisted on driving Becky Lynn home from work, insisted that when she did walk, she take the most traveled routes, and had even taken to sending Fayrene or Dixie for the pastries on Saturday morning. Fayrene had herself in a snit over it, but Miss Opal didn’t seem concerned in the least over the other hairdresser’s pique. She always found a more pressing job for Becky Lynn, one from which she couldn’t be spared, even for a few minutes.
Becky Lynn smiled to herself as she scrubbed the first shampoo bowl. For the first time in her life, she had a sense of what it must be like to have a mother, a mother in the real sense of the word, even if only part-time. It was nice to have someone who worried about her, someone who cared about what happened to her. It made her feel special. It made her feel cocooned and safe.
“Becky Lynn, you sure you can make it home without a ride?”
She lifted her gaze to Dixie. The other woman stood at the shop’s front door, buttoning her coat. Becky Lynn nodded. “I’ll be fine. It’s not even dark yet.”
The hairdresser looked longingly over her shoulder. Her last two appointments had canceled, and she wanted to go home. Becky Lynn couldn’t blame her—it had been a busy day, and she had a family to take care of.
She returned her gaze to Becky Lynn. “You’re sure? Miss Opal was pretty insistent that I drive you. She made me promise.” Dixie pursed her lips in thought. “I could ask Fayrene.”
Becky Lynn had no doubt how that request would be met. The other hairdresser was in back now, sulking because Dixie was going home and she would have to stay and close the shop. “I’ll be fine. Really.”
“Okay.” Dixie fastened a scarf around her cap of curls. “Miss Opal sure was tickled about going to see her granddaughter cheer at that pep rally. You going?”
Becky Lynn shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“Well, okay then. See you tomorrow afternoon.”
As Dixie stepped out into the gathering dusk, Becky Lynn had the sudden urge to call her back and beg her to wait. The words, the plea, sprang to her tongue. She took an involuntary step toward the door, starting to call out, then stopped, shaking her head at her foolishness. If ever there was a night she didn’t need to worry about walking home, it was tonight. As key players on the Bend High football team, Tommy and Ricky, and just about everybody else in this football-crazy town, would be busy at the pep rally.
She shook her head again, and went back to scrubbing the shampoo bowls. No, tonight she had nothing to fear.
Forty-five minutes later, she and Fayrene parted company at the square. Although just past five, shadows already swallowed the peripheral edges of the square and pressed inward, gobbling up the last of the light.
Becky Lynn looked straight ahead, toward the main road and the brightly lit homes and neighborhoods that lined it, then to her right and the road that led across the railroad tracks and through the worst part of Bend but straight to her house. She could save twenty minutes. Her stomach rumbled, and the shadows eased closer.
She tilted her face to the darkening sky and thought of her promise to Miss Opal, thought of the hour and of Tommy and Ricky and the pep rally.
Even as a chill crawled up her arms, she shook her head and angled to her right, cutting across the square, moving as fast as she could without running. Tonight she had nothing to fear.
In minutes, she had left the lights of the square behind and was crossing the railroad tracks. As she cleared them, she noticed the quiet. No slamming doors reverberated through the night, no mothers called their children to dinner, no cars roared past. Not even a breeze stirred the trees.
She had passed into the part of Bend called Sunset. Due west of the square, the sun always seemed to set, bloody red, right on top of Sunset.