Shelter, Chapter 7

by Glassbottom

I feel the need to warn the reader that there are elements of physical abuse in this chapter, but I took care to keep the actual violence brief.

Fireworks were blowing up and going off all over the neighborhood in anticipation of the big town show... the coals died white and grey in the bottom of grills as burgers and weenies settled in full bellies... and the beer turned to sweat and piss and drunkenness of one form or another, depending on the person.

Some drank more than others and were the life of the party, were everybody's friend, while others just turned mean like that was all they knew how to do.

Billie's Uncle Walt was outside in the backyard with her Aunt Debbie, outside Mona's bedroom window, and it was obvious which category he belonged in.

"Shit, Deb, you know you really do look like Maxine down the block," he said, his voice carrying. Debbie's voice could barely be heard responding, to which Walt said, "Yeah, damn little!" And he laughed. He laughed like a hyena.

Inside the bedroom, Billie and Mona were laying side by side on a mattress on a hard wooden floor, both looking up at the ceiling. The mattress was on the floor because that was the way Mona liked it, and it was her bedroom. A radio was playing next to the bed, and Mona reached out with her hand to turn up the volume, drowning out Walt's voice.

"So, how's your romance going?" Mona asked.

"My romance?"

"With that pretty Georgia woman thinks you're the cat's meow."

"The cat's... meow?"

Both girls laughed.

"I heard it somewhere. Anyway, how's it goin'?"

"It ain't goin'."

"Your lady friend don't like you no more?"

"I think she does."

"Then what happened?"

"I think I freaked her out."

"You freaked her out, huh? How'd you do that?"

"I can't tell you."

"Oh... you..."

Billie was wearing a tiny red-striped top and blue jean shorts and Mona wore a cut-off white tank top with a very short skirt that looked to be made of leather. The girls were holding hands and Billie's bare left foot was stretched out along the inside of Mona's shapely calf.

"That's so unfair," Mona said. "You never tell me anything."

"I do so," Billie grinned. "I just don't tell you 'everything'."

"It's six-thirty PM on the fourth of July, boys and girls," the man on the radio said. "Do you know where your parents are?"

Mona laughed and shook her head.

"I wish I didn't, those fuckers," she said. "Life would be so much easier," she sighed.

Billie turned to her and grinned, but her grin spread back into a frown as she watched Mona stare hard at the ceiling about it. She squeezed Mona's hand and tilted her brow so that it brushed Mona's shoulder.

"We need to do something," Mona said. "We need to shake it loose and go crazy. Hell, the fireworks are in a few hours, you know."

"So what do you want to do?"

"Let's put on some music," Mona said, jumping up off the bed. "Let's put on some music and dance."

"OK," Billie said, her eyes shining as she looked up at her cousin.

"So get up off that floor, little mama," Mona said. "Let's go!" She reached down with both hands and helped Billie up off her bed. She picked up her radio and shut it off and turned to her boom box. She picked out a CD, opened the cover, and put it in the machine. She turned up the volume and hit the play button and threw up her fist with the middle finger raised to her bedroom window...

The CD was "Back to Black" by Amy Winehouse and the two of them danced to it like they had been dancing to it every day for months.

"Turn that down in there!" Walt shouted from the backyard, but Mona shook her head, holding Billie's hands, grinning from ear to ear. "I know you can hear me! You want trouble, I can give it to you!"

Mona slacked her jaw, jerked her hips, and made a motion with her hand like she was stroking a penis. Then she took Billie in her arms and resumed dancing. It was only a moment later that there was a loud knocking at the bedroom door, followed by banging.

"Open this door!"

Billie was facing the mirror, her cousin behind her, right hands clasped leading, left hands tucked against her tummy. Mona looked in her eyes and Billie looked back as the banging continued and they moved their bodies together.

"I'm going to kick this door in!"

Mona leaned down, her mouth coming in contact with Billie's ear.

"I'd like to see that," she said, and Billie reached up her hand to pull her close. The teenager spun the ten-year-old around broke away and they danced separate.

There was a very loud bang and the door knob was jostled, but the door did not move. Then there was a crash and the door came open, including a piece of the wall, and a tall, thin man with greying brown hair and glasses stepped in.

Billie stopped dancing. Mona did not.

Walt walked around, taking slow steps around his daughter, looking her up and down coldly. He turned toward the boom box and he looked at his daughter. He briefly glanced at Billie, then looked at his daughter's short skirt. He lifted his arm and swung around and bashed the boom box with the side of his fist.

Amy Winehouse's voice got caught in mid-lyric and got stuck with the music. Mona stopped dancing, stood very still in the middle of the floor, and looked up from beneath a hard brow.

"God, I hate you," she said softly.

Walt pressed the power button and the reverberating sound of voice and music stuck in a loop went dead. The room fell quiet. A firework exploded nearby.

"What did you say to me?" he asked.

"I hate you," Mona said.

Walt grabbed her roughly by the arms and pushed her against the wall.

She shrank from him as he leaned down, grasping her chin and cheeks as he forced her to looked into his eyes.

"You don't talk to me that way," he said. "I gave you life."

"Are you as sorry about that as I am?" Mona asked, getting the words out despite having her cheeks so tightly clamped by his fingers. At these new words, his face grew red and contorted.

"You're beggin' for a beatin', girl."

"Fuck you!" Mona screamed in his face, pulling her arms free and pushing him back.

The tall thin man staggered backwards, got tripped up on the edge of the mattress, and with nothing to grab onto, fell on his back on the bed. By the time he was on his feet, Mona had run out of the room with Billie tagging along behind her. Both were barefooted running out on the lawn where Mona's mother, a heavy, caramel-skinned African-American woman stood shaking her head.

"He's gone and done it again," she said. "God damn motherfucker."

Walt stumbled out onto the lawn and took out after Mona.

"You little whore!" he yelled at her. Debbie tried to get in the way but he shoved her and got past, grabbing his daughter by the hair. He backhanded her across the face and wrestled her to the ground, holding her arms. Tears appeared in Billie's eyes as she grit her teeth and she went in the house. The screen door slammed behind her.

She found the phone and picked it up, turned it on and entered the numbers.

"9-1-1... what is your emergency?"

"Hi, I need to report a... a... "

"Honey, slow down... okay...what's your name and how old are you?"

"My name is Billie and I'm ten."

"OK. Just tell me what exactly is happening."

"My Uncle Walt is very drunk and he is beating my cousin Mona."

"Is this still happening?"

"Yes."

"Where on her body?"

"Face, arms...um... " Billie said, looking out the door as the commotion continued, beginning to sob. "I'm sorry... I... "

"Oh, sweetie, it's OK," the operator said. "You're doing well. We have your address. The police are on their way. Who else is there?"

"My... my aunt Debbie," Billie said, "but she has a bad back and she can't..."

"Where did Billie go?" Walt called out.

"I gotta go," Billie said.

"Don't hang – " the operator started to say, but Billie pressed the button, set the phone down, and ran through the house. She returned to Mona's bedroom and she opened the closet and hid inside. She waited.

There was the abrupt sound of a siren and that was when she slowly came out, looking around the room. She found her flip flops and she walked back through the house to the back door where she found the police having a discussion with father and mother and daughter. Walt was sitting off by himself with an officer talking to him. Mona was trying to tell them what happened but she was upset, not making much sense. Walt was being quiet. Debbie was being quiet.

"I see the marks on your face and arms, Mona," the officer said, "but you need to calm down and tell me what happened."

"I'll tell you," Billie said. "I made the call and I saw her Dad hit her."

Mona moved closer to Billie and took her hand, squeezing it, leaning her bruised cheek, touching the top of her young cousin's head.

"And your name is...?"

"Billie," she said to the police officer. "Billie Dean."

......

It was getting dark. The area surrounding the football field, including the practice fields, was crowded with people. Mona and Billie walked together. Mona was carrying a blanket. She stopped shy of approaching the herd and turned to Billie, taking her by the arm.

"I don't really want to be around a lot of people if you don't mind," she said.

"I don't really," Billie said.

"So... just you and me?" Mona asked. "We find a spot somewhere?"

Billie broke into a big smile. She took her cousin by the hand.

She had some bruises, some marks, but no injuries worth a trip to the hospital. They had gone to the police station, taken photographs, documented everything, and Mona didn't want to talk about it anymore.

They had made it home in time for the fireworks and she had said, "Let's go."

They found a spot near the fence, far away from the rest of the crowd, spread out the blanket, sat down, and they each had a cigarette from Mona's purse.

"So, do you miss that Georgia woman?" Mona asked.

"What? Why would I miss her?" Billie grinned.

"Well, the way you took off on your bike that day, you were goin' after her, right?"

"Well... yeah... "

"Do you miss her?"

Billie rested her arms across her knees. She took a puff of her smoke.

"Yeah, I guess I do," she said.

"So what freaked her out?"

"I'm not sure exac'ly," Billie said. "We pretended to be mother and daughter... and I got her to spank me – "

"Spank you?" Mona interrupted.

"Yes," Billie hugged her legs and half-smiled.

"Bare-assed or with your pants still on?" Mona pressed her.

"Bare-assed," Billie said. "I mean, my shorts were down just enough."

"Holy shit," Mona said. "Where did this happen?"

"In her apartment."

"Wow..." Mona gasped. "If you think this woman is one of those perverted types, it's kind of crazy going up to her place, don't you think?"

"Well, I don't know... " Billie said, laying her head down across her knees. "I don't know if – "

"Of course, you know," Mona interrupted, "the whole thing is kind of hot."

The teenager lay back on the blanket. Billie took one last puff of her cigarette and lay back next to her. The darkness had covered by then, but they could see one another well enough. Billie looked over and saw that Mona was running her fingers over her breasts through her tank top, caressing them. She cupped them, squeezed them, and with thumb and forefinger, Billie could see her pinching the point of her breast.

Billie turned on her side, resting on her elbow, her face on her hand.

Mona turned and looked up into her younger cousin's face.

"You want to see them, don't you?"

Billie smiled and nodded.

Mona lifted the tank top so that Billie could see her smooth, small but round and firm breasts. There was enough surrounding light that Billie could make out their shape and texture, and the shape of their pointed nipples.

She watched Mona touch them. Her touch was slow and loving. When she came to the nipples, she pinched them and rolled them between her fingers. Her legs came back then, moving back and forth, dancing.

"Does it really feel good... touching them?" Billie asked.

"I can feel it down in my pussy," Mona said. "Oh, I'm sorry, I shouldn't be using words like that around you, but that's we call it."

"That's OK."

"It tingles right there..." Mona took a breath. "Makes me want to play with myself."

"Go ahead," Billie smiled.

"With you right here?"

"I won't tell nobody."

Mona eased her legs back down and pulled her skirt up. Still fondling one of her breasts, she slipped one hand down the waistband of her panties and her eyes closed.

"Oh, Billie..." she said. "It feels so good, doesn't it? You play with yourself, right?"

"Oh... yeah... "

"You play with your nipples?"

"Well, I don't really... "

"You don't have much to play with, do you?" Mona said, breathing heavy. "Well, it adds to the feeling, let me tell you. But you do play with your pussy?"

"Yes, I do," Billie said.

"Have you ever... you know... had a... ?"

"A what?"

"Where it feels really really good and you just kind of... lose it?"

Billie didn't answer. Mona didn't ask her any more questions. Billie watched and Mona touched herself. And then, without asking if she could, Billie reached out and touched the unattended breast. Mona looked up at her and didn't say a word, and did not lift and hand to stop her.

As a matter of fact, she took her own hand away from the other breast so that Billie could touch both of them.

Billie rose up into a kneeling position alongside her prone teenage cousin and began fondling both breasts with her small hands. The nipples were swollen, truly stiff against her palms. She did as she had seen Mona do. She began to pinch them carefully, rolling them between thumb and forefinger.

"Oh... Billie... " Mona sighed. "You got it. Work my boobs," she said down low.

The first fireworks of the big show went off. They shot up into the night and blossomed into an array of colorful florets that lit up the sky above.

"Billie, lay down," Mona said. "Don't miss the show."

"But I want to touch you."

"It's OK." The two girls lay there looking up into the stars and the explosions and the rockets, bodies pressed together, and Billie could see Mona was still touching herself.

Turning on her side once again, moving down and pressing her cheek to Mona's upper arm, Billie reached for the area between Mona's thighs, that place where Mona was busying herself with her hand. She touched Mona's trembling thigh and Mona turned to her.

"Billie, what the fuck..."

"Can I touch you?"

"You want to play with my pussy?"

"Yes."

There was silence then as darkness fell between barrages of fireworks.

And Mona took Billie's hand, leading it between her thighs. She had taken her panties off. She pressed Billie's fingers to the wet lips right there, right where she wanted her to rub.

"Do it," she told Billie. "In a circle."

Billie began to rub, and Mona corrected her a couple of times but then she had it right, and she could feel that little swollen thing right there, that thing that sometimes got swollen and felt good on her, and she felt Mona shaking when she rubbed it faster.

"Oh, Billie... yes... faster... "

The fireworks were spread out like a painting. Mona touched her own breasts, pinching her nipples, arching her back, her breath sporadic as Billie kissed her on the shoulder.

"Does it feel good?" Billie asked.

"Oh, yes yes yes... " Mona answered between breaths.

Billie grinned, hugging Mona as the older tensed up. Just in time for the finale, when they set off all the remaining fireworks and the whole sky seemed to be filled at once, Mona grasped Billie's hand, pressing her fingers to their target.

"Oh, Billie... " she whimpered and she wriggled and she shuddered, her thighs coming tightly together. She quivered and her whole body seemed to be out of control. Billie watched, her eyes wide, trained on the movements of her cousin's body. Something was happening.

When it was over, everybody applauded and cheered, and Mona turned to Billie and smiled.

"That was sweet, Billie," Mona said. She leaned and kissed her on the lips. It was brief but it made Billie smile.

Mona quickly put her panties on and pulled her top down and they folded the blanket. They walked back to Mona's house. Both were quiet. They turned and looked at one another a lot, smiling...

They shared a cigarette.

Before Billie rode off on her bike, they hugged.

"I love you, cous'," Mona said.

"I love you, too."

Billie rode home along the crazy streets, past sparklers and people still shooting off illegally purchased fireworks. She rode fast but watched for cars.

She got home, rode the car around the house, parked her bike, and climbed the steps of the back porch. She entered kitchen through the screen door.

"Hi, Billie," her mother said. She was a tall, slender woman with auburn hair. "Have a good time today?"

"I did," Billie said. She said nothing about the trouble with Walt. "The fireworks were really good."

Jack sat quietly looking on. Billie's sister Sara sat on his lap. Billie inched back, looking at his hand on Sara's knee.

"We had an interesting... well... crisis. This woman came and passed out on the front porch."

"Woman?" Billie asked.

"Yes. She came here and said she was lost. She was pretty drunk. It was sad. She was really pretty. Had black hair and real pretty brown eyes. She couldn't have been more than thirty-something. I think her name was... um..."

"Georgia," Sara said. "She tol' me her name was Georgia."

Billie turned from her family and went to the window, looking out into the yard.

(TO BE CONTINUED)