In the distance, the night sky was aglow with the bright city lights. Except for the intermittent barking of the neighborhood dogs, the streets were dark and silent. 

Listening to the river’s rhythmic sounds slapping against the rocky shoreline was one of Beth’s favorite pastimes. During the day, she loved watching people, especially the young children playing on the merry-go-round, laughing, and having fun while their mothers passed the time, sharing bits of gossip or news. The park was a safe haven.

Tonight, it was different. Crouched between the giant boulders and several forsythia bushes, Beth yearned for her warm bed and soft pillow. She wasn’t afraid of the dark, but she feared what was in it. Nothing was comforting, not even the smell of the budding yellow blossoms surrounding her. 

The fresh open wounds on her back burned like hot coals. The guttural howling of two cats caused a riot of chills to race down her spine. She flinched, sending piercing needles of pain into every nerve - proving the adage of cause and effect or the domino theory.

The tall pines and majestic oak branches cast threatening shadows across the moonlit path. She closed her eyes tightly, praying for them to disappear. Adrenalin had given her the strength to escape, but, alone in the dark, it had quickly dissipated. She was a sixteen-year-old girl with nowhere to go. Hungry, hurting, homeless and afraid - not a good start for her new life.

Thankful she’d remembered the flannel shirt, she cautiously slipped it on, pulled her knees to her chest, and hugged her legs. For one fleeting moment, she felt defiant and brave, but then the floodgates opened, unleashing a waterfall of salty tears. She buried her face in her arms and sobbed. 

**********

Nancy, a bartender at Dwight’s favorite watering hole, had been enjoying his company for about a year, long before he became a widower. Armed with a champagne bottle and a twelve-pack, Dwight would arrive at Nancy’s door every Wednesday and Sunday. She was a pro at lavishing her attention on him; he, in return, smothered her with trinkets and kinky sex. Dwight believed she was his forever, but Nancy had far greater plans than he could ever understand. For now, he was a fun boy-toy, nothing more.

Hours after the incident with Beth, Dwight awoke with a throbbing headache. He stumbled to the bathroom, inhaled the putrid stench of liquor and beer, and unceremoniously vomited the brown-yellow bile everywhere but inside the porcelain bowl.

Using the walls as support, he shuffled through the littered hallway into the kitchen. Blinking his eyes several times, he tried to focus on the disarray. One of the yellow-padded chairs was upside down, tossed across the room. Bits and pieces of the mayo jar and its yellowish-white contents were smeared like fingerpaint on the brown kitchen tiles. The telltale leather belt hung from a chair. Dwight gasped as fear put a stranglehold on his parched throat. 

“What the hell happened?” He could only recall snippets, but it was enough to know it was bad. He needed help, big-time help, and he needed it fast. He grabbed the phone and called Nancy.

She answered on the first ring, hoping it was Dwight. “Hello.”

“Sweet Cakes, I need you.” His throat was dry, making it difficult to talk. 

“Oh, Baby, I need you too.” She knew what to say to get the pot boiling with her man.

A half pot of leftover Colombian coffee sat on the counter. The cups sat like waiting soldiers on the shelf above. His trembling fingers gripped the mug’s handle as he poured the cold brew, sloshing more on the counter than in the cup. 

Expecting Dwight to respond with an offer she wouldn’t refuse, Nancy scowled at the phone. “Dwight, honey, is everything alright?”

 Gulping down the cold black brew, he tried again. “Nancy, I’m in big trouble. I need your help.”

The sound of his voice set alarms off in her head. “I’ll be right there. Whatever it is, Nancy’s gonna fix it for you, sugar.” She hung up the phone, grabbed her sweater, and rushed out the back door, mumbling to the world, “Don’t you worry. Nancy can fix anything.”

**********

“Dwight, honey, let me pour you another cup of coffee. No need to be frettin’ because Nancy’s going to make it all go away.” She filled his cup with hot, black coffee, nuzzling his neck and pressing her oversized boobs against his body.

“But Sweet Cakes -” She handed him three aspirins and a glass of water, giving him a stony stare. Dwight closed his mouth and stared into his coffee cup.

“Now, you listen to me. We’ve got to call the police, maybe even the press.” She moved around the kitchen, picking up chairs, returning them to their rightful spots. “First, we’re going to get rid of the evidence. Put all those empty bottles in a trash bag.” Opening the cabinet door, she peered under the sink. Spying an orange and black box of garbage bags, she yanked one out and tossed it on the table. “I’ll call my cousin Leroy to come by and get them.” She stopped for a minute, tapping her pointer finger against her ruby red lips. “Let me think. Can’t have anyone seeing him.” She paused in thought. “He can come in the alley on foot. It’s dark. Besides, no one sees anything in this neighborhood.” Standing behind Dwight’s chair, she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. Her voice softened. “You take a shower and get ready. I’ve got this under control.”

“But police? That caseworker, Atwell, already dislikes me, and I did nothing to her.” He shook his head, “We can’t call the police.”

“Yes, we can, and we will. It would help if you had an alibi for this afternoon.” She thought for a moment, then snapped her fingers. “Got it! You say that you were at my house fixing the gate. Leroy did it yesterday, but they won’t know that.”

“That still doesn’t prove I didn’t beat the hell out of the brat.” Dwight paced the floor. He’d gone too far this time. 

“Get a hold of yourself. Do you hear me?” Nancy tugged on his arm, pushing him back into the kitchen chair. “Drink the coffee.” She moved the cup closer to him. 

Grabbing a dishcloth, she started wiping the counters as she continued explaining the plan, “You’re going to say you went home to clean up while I fixed us a dinner to bring to your place.” She stopped a moment and leaned over to kiss the gash in Dwight’s forehead, gently brushing a few stray hairs away from the wound. “Here’s where it gets good, so listen. When the police question you about what happened, say that she went crazy when you told her I was coming over, only six months after losing her mom. You went to the bedroom, and she clocked you with a vase. You fell, hitting your head on the tub, and were unconscious. I found you when I arrived for dinner. After that, we can say she hasn’t returned home, and we are worried about her safety.” The wheels were spinning inside Nancy’s head. “Maybe, say this isn’t the first time she’s run away. Yeah, say she sneaks out of the house late at night.”

“But what if she talks? If they find her and see the marks -”

“She will not talk, sugar. She said nothing when they asked about the accident, did she? She’s not going to say anything now. As for the marks, we do not know where or when she got them. Maybe her john got a little overzealous.”

“I don’t know. Why don’t we leave it alone? She’ll come back on her own. She has nowhere to go.” Dwight returned to his pacing. “I need a drink.”

“Absolutely not! If they think you were drinking, they’re going to dig that much deeper. Look like the concerned father who’s overwhelmed with grief for his dead wife and your missing daughter. Do you understand?”

“It’s still my word against hers, and my track record isn’t the best.” He dropped his head and watched an ant disappear under the stove. 

“Not to worry. Being a bartender has its benefits. I’ve picked up little bits of interesting information here and there. A few of your neighbors owe me a favor or two. By the time they’re done praising you, honey, you can run for mayor. Beth is about to become quite the naughty girl with the boys around town.”

“Whoa! Is it necessary to go that far?” Dwight buried his face in his hands. “I don’t know, Nancy.”

“It’s you or her? What’s it going to be?” Nancy kissed the top of his head. “She’s young; she’ll get past this. It’s nothing. You, on the other hand, will wear orange jumpers for a long time.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Call Leroy and get the ball rolling before I change my mind.” 

**********

“Okay, let’s call it quits for the night.” Ethan stretched and yawned. “I’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

“Squawk! Squawk! Squawk!” Tyson flapped his arms, imitating a chicken as he circled his friend. “Afraid you’ll lose again?” 

Ethan laughed, tossing the basketball to Tyson. “I didn’t lose. If memory serves me, you fouled out. That makes you the loser.” 

“Whatever!” Tyson walked over to the bench and gathered his gear. “You still owe me a beer.”

“Fine! I’ve got some cold ones in my frig. Let’s go slam down a few.” 

As the young men continued to exchange banter with each other, they left the basketball court and headed across the park, tossing the ball back and forth between them. Tyson dribbled down the path, spun around, and launched the ball in Ethan’s direction. It sailed over his head and rolled toward the river.

“Way to go, Knucklehead.” Ethan jogged after the ball. “If it ends up in the river, you’re going in after it.”

“Not me. I can’t swim.” Tyson laughed. “You’re the jock, remember?”

Exhausted, Beth had slipped into a tumultuous slumber. Visions of the leather belt snapping against her skin played continuously through her subconscious. Her arms jerked violently, flailing against the forsythia branches. The day’s nightmare consumed her, so she was unaware of Ethan and Tyson’s antics as they approached.

The errant basketball smashed against her sleeping figure. Startled, Beth jolted upright, screaming in terror and excruciating pain. Fearing an animal attack, she bolted from her hiding place, disoriented and out of control, crashing into Ethan before slipping into unconsciousness.

Ethan’s arms shot forward, catching Beth’s disheveled body. Stunned, he lowered her to the ground, kneeling on the grass at her side. Tyson dropped his gear and rushed to join his friend.

“Is she dead?” Leaning down, Tyson peered at the teenage girl and then backed up a few steps.

“No. She screamed, didn’t she?” Ethan put his ear close to Beth’s mouth. “She’s breathing. I think she must have fainted.” Ethan shook his head. “Maybe we should call for help.”

“Man, leave her. She’s just a bum sleeping in the park.” Tyson retrieved the basketball from the bushes. “Come on, Eth, before someone else shows up. Her blood-curdling screams probably alerted the entire neighborhood.”

“Really, you want to leave her?” Ethan tossed a disgusted look at his friend. “What’s wrong with you, man? She’s hurt. She needs help.”

“Listen, she’s not our problem. Who knows what she’ll do when she wakes up?” Tyson pursed his lips and stared out at the river in deep thought. “These women say and do anything, you know. I’m not willing to jeopardize my scholarship for some bum.”

“These women? Wow, brother, I don’t know where you’re coming from right now, but you certainly aren’t thinking straight.” 

“Me? I didn’t sign up to be no hero, especially for a street bum. I’d be careful cuz there’s no telling what wrong with her. Probably high on something.”

A low growl escaped Beth’s lips. At the sound, Ethan’s head snapped back to the girl lying on the ground. “I can’t just walk away.”

“Well, I can! I’m out of here, bro.” Tyson grabbed his gear. “Sorry, but it’s just the way it's gotta be.” Hesitating for a sliver of a moment, he turned and jogged across the park, leaving his best friend kneeling over Beth’s body.