The minute the tape is over my mouth, I can’t breathe. I hear Christian calling me, and I pray he gets here fast, because if he doesn’t, I’ll pass out. My nose feels broken, and I can’t get any air that way. I need Christian to get it off. I need him to call 911.
Christian heard the sound of glass breaking and ran faster down the stairs. Libby was home. He knew she was. If glass was breaking, it meant that she got hurt. His mom and dad weren’t coming home until suppertime so Christian knew it was up to him. They had to take care of each other, because that’s what friends did.
Very carefully, Christian looked in all the rooms. The family room had a plate on the couch with a pizza crust on it. Christian bit his lip. Emily used to leave messes at the apartment all the time, but she was better about it now. And besides, Emily wasn’t even home. Libby always cleaned up after herself. Christian started to worry and felt his heart beat faster inside him. What if a stranger was inside? Or a robber? What if they were the one who made that noise?
Turning back around, Christian ran upstairs and into his bedroom. It used to feel safe in there, with the green walls and big stuffed puppy on the bed. Really fast, he looked under the bed, and found what he was looking for. His baseball bat. It was made of the strongest wood. He knew because he hit a homerun with it last year when he played for the 7 and under team. He looked inside the kitchen and saw Snoopy had an accident and was barking like crazy. The kitchen still had the gate around it, and Libby always let Snoopy out right away. Leaning in, Christian picked up the dog, and took him with, too. He might help guard, and bark if there was danger.
Moving slowly, like he’d seen his dad do when he wasn’t sure of a situation, Christian crept back down the stairs. He checked out Libby and Emily’s room, the bat over his shoulder and Snoopy in his arms, shaking, just as scared as Christian was. Nobody was in the bedroom so he checked the bathroom. That was normal too. He peeked in the laundry room. Christian didn’t like it in there because it was dark, but he made himself check it out anyway, because that’s what a man would do, and he already felt like a man for years now. He was used to protecting his mom. He would protect Libby, too, because he had lots of practice.
Just as Christian was about to duck out of the laundry room, he noticed the door to the exercise bedroom was open a little ways. It hadn’t been before, because it was a surprise for Libby. With the bat over his shoulder and the puppy in the other arm, Christian kicked the door open. Then, he got dizzy and almost fell down.
Because there was Libby, all bloody on the cement floor. She had duct tape on her mouth and she was crying. She looked beat up bad, even worse than her mom looked when a guy robbed her. The window was broken and a cold wind was blowing. There was glass everywhere, and blood on the desk his dad was making for Libby. A chair was missing.
“Libby!” he yelled, running to her. He watched her jerk away and then remembered that he still had the baseball bat. Christian put it down on the ground and the dog, too. Somehow, Snoopy knew that Libby was hurt, even though he was just a puppy. He cried and started to lick her face.
It looked like Libby was having a hard time breathing because she was making a lot of struggling noise. She kept bringing her hand up to her mouth and trying to get the tape off, but it wouldn’t come.
“Here. Don’t move, I’ll do it,” Christian told her, shaking just as bad as Snoopy. He tried to get a good grip on the tape, but it was slippery with blood. He tried to pull, but Libby made noise as if he was hurting her. Then, she took the hand that didn’t look hurt, and moved it to her ear, in a sign for phone.
Right. Christian got all those supplies and forgot the most important one. Lucky for him, he knew just where Libby kept her phone now. “I’ll be right back, I promise,” he said, giving her a kiss in her hair, where she didn’t look that bad.
“Stay,” he told Snoopy, picking some glass off of Libby and setting the puppy on top of her. Just like a good dog, Snoopy laid down. “He’ll protect you until I get back.”
Then, Christian ran to the family room and dug under the couch cushions for Libby’s phone. He found it in three pieces, and quickly put the battery back in, and the little door on to keep the battery from falling out. Then he pressed the on button and waited for it to wake up.
Before he even got back to Libby, he dialed 911.
--
“Lamoille County 911. Do you have an emergency?”
“Yes,” Christian said in a hurry, he was running to get back to Libby. “My friend is hurt really bad!” When he saw her the second time, Christian felt tears coming and tried not to cry. But it was so sad to see Libby crying and bleeding and trying to breathe, and Snoopy lying on her and licking her face.
“What happened to your friend?” the lady on the other end of the call asked.
“I don’t know!” Christian sobbed. “I just got home from school and heard a crash, and then I found her lying on the floor! She’s bleeding a lot and has tape on her mouth!”
“Okay, calm down,” the lady said in a firm voice. “What’s your name?”
“Christian Walker,” he sniffed.
“Okay, Christian. How old are you?”
“I’m almost eight. Libby’s twenty-one. She’s my friend and my mom and dad’s friend. She was supposed to watch me after school,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Do you need my address?” he asked, petting Libby’s hair.
“No, I know where you are. Christian, does your friend know who hurt her?”
“Um. I don’t know. Libby, do you know who hurt you?” he asked, playing with the edge of the tape.
“She’s nodding. She knows, but she can’t talk! I tried to get the tape off, but it was hurting her so I stopped! She can’t breathe very good though! Is someone coming?”
“Yes, I have police on the way. How is Libby doing?”
“She’s bleeding a lot, from her arms and her face,” Christian passed along, worried.
“Okay, do you have a clean towel or something you can use to stop the bleeding?” the lady on the phone asked. “You need to press down on the bleeding areas. Do you understand? Wrap them up and press as hard as you can.”
Christian put the phone on speaker, laid it on the floor, and took of his jacket off. He wasn’t going to leave Libby again, unless the police came and made him. Christian wrapped his jacket around her arm very tight. Libby screamed behind the tape but kept nodding, as if he was doing the right thing. Then Christian took off his sweatshirt, and wrapped it tight around the other arm and hand. He used his tee shirt to clean the blood of her face. He was lucky it was very cold out and he needed a lot of layers.
Outside, Christian heard sirens and he was scared again. What if the broken window was how the bad guy got in, and he was still here? He said that to the lady on the phone. Then, he pulled his bat closer and laid his whole body across Libby’s.
“They’re coming,” Christian whispered.
Underneath him, he could hear Libby’s heart beating so fast, and the noise in her chest when she tried to breathe.
The door was pushed open, and he heard men’s voices. Feet on the stairs, because Snoopy was barking and giving away where they were.
“Don’t come any closer!” Christian screamed, hearing footsteps enter the room. He clutched the bat in one hand.
“Christian, it’s the police. It’s the good guys,” the lady on the phone was saying, but Christian was too afraid to look.
“Christian,” a man’s voice said that didn’t sound anything like his dad‘s.
“If you touch her, I’ll knock your damn head off, and that’s a promise!” Christian screamed, the same way he once heard his dad defend his mom when a tourist tried to take a picture with her, as if she was a sight on a sightseeing tour.
Then, the worst thing happened. Christian felt himself getting lifted up. “It’s okay. We’ll take care of her now. Christian, it’s me. It’s Lucky.” Finally, Christian peeked one eye open. It was Lucky. His favorite policeman ever, here to save the day. He came to Christian’s class in first and second grade to tell them about 911.
“Hey, we need to get this tape off her ASAP. Christian, do you have any vegetable oil?” the other policeman asked, talking softly to Libby, and giving Christian the puppy.
Christian ran as fast as he could up the stairs into the kitchen. His mom had the biggest bottle of vegetable oil ever and Christian knew just where it was.
“Hey, Christian! You got cotton balls?” Lucky called.
“In the downstairs bathroom! Libby and Emily have some in there!” Christian called back. He got the vegetable oil and hurried down the first flight of stairs. Seeing Lucky at the bottom of the second flight, Christian tossed the big bottle, and Lucky caught it in one hand. He was as big as a football player and Santa, mixed into one person.
--
When the police got the tape off her mouth, Libby dragged in a deep breath.
“Hey, Lib,” Lucky said, and she tried to smile at him. She recognized him from church. “You’re gonna be okay. The ambulance ought to be here in no time and we’ll get you fixed up. Do you know who hurt you?”
Libby nodded. “Where’s Christian?” she rasped, wincing as Lucky pressed his massive hands against her arms to slow the bleeding. He probed her nose, and she flinched.
“He’s with Bert,” Lucky said, indicating the other officer. “He’s okay.”
“It was my brother,” Libby admitted, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks, stinging the open cuts. She knew she had to tell. She didn’t want him beating her up again, and definitely didn’t want him around kids with his crazy side. “William Patrick Wright.”
“The kid from TV?” Lucky asked, incredulous. At the time, Lucky thought the kid had been nice enough, and even felt bad about what he had to endure. Now, though, seeing Libby with her lip split, her nose probably broken, with cuts and bruises everywhere, Lucky wanted to find him, kick his ass back to Minnesota and lock him up there.
“Yes,” Libby whimpered. “When Christian came home, it scared him and he left. He’s probably headed for the Manchester airport. Six feet, slight build, buzzed dirty blonde hair. Blue-gray eyes,” she gasped as she was lifted onto the stretcher. I bit him. His right hand, he was bleeding when he left. Brown jacket, gray knit cap.”
“Okay. Good, that’s good,” Lucky said. “We’ll find him, sweetheart. Don’t worry. They’re gonna take you and Christian to the hospital. Can’t reach Coby or Jess but as soon as we can, they’ll know.”
In the distance, Libby saw Bert carrying Christian out to ride along in the ambulance, wearing jeans and his fleece Patriots blanket.
--
Nate and Cary had just gotten in after taking Linus for a walk on the rec path. They heard sirens there, and noticed cop cars and an ambulance heading tin the direction of their house. Cary and Nate just looked at one another and took off toward the house, rushing around it, to see police cars and an ambulance parked in the drive of Jess and Coby’s house. The doors to the ambulance were just being closed. Nate could see Christian in the front seat.
“What happened? Who’s hurt?” he demanded of Lucky, the kind-hearted officer in front of the house.
Cary was right behind him. “Is Christian okay?”
Lucky turned to them, his face grim. He normally wouldn’t give this kind of information out if it wasn’t to family, but he knew these kids. They were as close as family. “It’s not Christian. It’s Libby. She’ll be okay, but she’ll need someone to take her home.”
Without a word, they both ran to their car and got in, Cary playing ambulance chaser, and Nathaniel on the phone, trying to reach Jess, Coby, Emily, Morgan and Jon.
--
Christian was sitting in room with chairs. A lady was trying to make him feel better, bringing him juice and a cookie, but Christian didn’t think he would ever eat again. He still felt so sick seeing Libby all beat up.
But when he saw Nate and Cary come in, he jumped out of his chair and ran to them. They were both dressed in big coats. Nate’s was blue and Cary’s was black. They looked very warm. Christian’s coat had Libby’s blood on it. So did his shirt.
“Libby got beat up!” he said, feeling his heart beat fast, as Nate took his jacket off, and put it around Christian’s shoulders.
While Cary talked to the woman in charge of Christian and reassured her that they were his neighbors and knew his family, Nate sat in a chair and held Christian on his lap. He let Christian talk, and asked if he was okay. Instinctively, Nate didn’t pry, knowing firsthand what it was like to endure a violent situation and feel pressured in the aftermath to give information.
“I tried, but I couldn’t get the tape off her mouth,” Christian told him sadly.
“You know what?” Cary said, “Nate and I have known you a long time. And I bet you did everything you could and you were so brave. Libby and your mom and dad and all of us are so proud of you.”
Christian ignored him. He didn’t feel like he did a good job. He turned to Nate.
“Who would want to hurt Libby?” he asked, shivering a little under Nate’s coat. “Is it the same guy that hurt you guys a long time ago?”
“No,” Nathaniel said firmly. “That guy died. He can’t hurt us anymore…and I don’t know who would want to hurt Libby.”
--
Libby was released hours later, after receiving countless stitches in her arms, having her nose examined, her right arm put in a splint, and being diagnosed with a concussion.
By then, Emily had heard about what happened, and come to the hospital to pick up Christian, so he wouldn’t see Libby looking bad anymore than he had to.
Nate and Cary were the first people she saw, and Libby begged them to take her home. She didn’t want to think about how much all this would cost. She hadn’t had a job until recently, and had no medical insurance. The whole thing was giving her a headache.
--
Jon got home that afternoon and didn’t bother checking his phone. He wanted peace and quiet. But the minute he walked in the kitchen, he could sense something amiss. A single butter knife was in the sink, smeared with various ingredients. He looked closer. Peanut butter. Honey. And Nutella. Jon grimaced. Morgan would never put all that on bread at once. And she would use different knives.
He investigated further, finding smears of peanut butter in the Nutella. Who the hell stopped in for a disgusting sandwich, and didn’t let him know? That made Jon search the rest of the house. The living room seemed fine. Nothing out of place.
Jon checked the bathroom next, and found Morgan’s tropical fish towel tossed haphazardly on the floor. He picked it up, grimacing. It wasn’t just wet, it was really wet, but it smelled like Morgan. He dropped it on the floor again, worry gnawing at his gut. Was she okay? Was she struggling? Was she gone?
“Jonathan!” Morgan hollered, pounding in the house.
Well, that answered that question.
“Morgan?” he called back. “You all right? Eating nasty food and middle-of-the-day showers would indicate no.” Jon met her in the living room and stared into her eyes. She did look upset, but it wasn’t personal. It was something else.
“Didn’t you check your messages, dude? Liam was here. In town. He came over to Jess and Coby’s, got Libby alone, and then he beat the hell out of her. She just got out of the hospital,” she flipped the TV on to show the news.
High City, Minnesota native, William Wright, recently seen on ABC’s Backward Glance, admitted to assault today, claiming, “I never should have laid a hand on my sister. But I did and I am deeply sorry. I will go to anger management. I will do whatever I have to do to make this right.”
Angrily, Morgan turned the TV off. “That son-of-a-bitch!”
“He was here, you know?” Jon said. “He made himself a sandwich and left the knife in the sink. He showered here and used your towel to dry off. Smelled like you.”
“Oh, hell no!” Morgan exclaimed, rushing through the house. She hurried into her room and checked for signs of scum. Immediately she could see her closet door ajar. The journal she shared with Jon out on her bed, and her laptop, which had been turned off this morning, plugged in and lit up. When she lay across her bed to look at the screen, and saw his status from 12:08 PM still on the screen, still signed in, Morgan felt sick and violated.
“Let’s go,” she said, grabbing her coat.
--
Libby walked unsteadily into the house. Nathaniel would have carried her, but she promised that if he did, she would scream. Her whole body hurt too much to even think about being picked up.
“Liam hurt you?!” Jess asked, in shock, as soon as she saw Libby. Her eyes, nose and lip were swollen. Her arms wrapped in gauze and one was in a sling.
“Just don’t worry about it, okay?” Libby insisted. “I just want to go to bed.”
“Jess, calm down…” Coby whispered, even though he didn’t feel calm in the least. That coward had come into their home, while they weren’t there. He waited until he knew Libby was alone and then tried to beat her into submission.
“I’m going to kill him,” Jess said under her breath, glad that Emily had taken Christian out for pizza, so he wasn’t around anymore of this intensity.
“Where’s CJ?” Libby asked groggily.
“He’s out to eat. He’ll be home later,” Nate said quietly sitting beside her in the doublewide recliner. Gently, he pressed cold compresses to her face.
“He did such a good job. He protected me. Scared Liam away. Tried to get the tape off me. When he had to go, he got Snoopy to stay with me,” she went on.
Jess busied herself getting the couch ready, insisting that Libby was not going to walk downstairs in her shape. “Do you need anything?” she asked, touching Libby’s leg, sad when she flinched instinctively away.
“I wanna paint…”
Nathaniel didn’t argue. He just got up and walked out the back door to Coby’s shop and gathered up her easel, paper and paints and brought it all inside. He set it up in front of Libby in the recliner, adjusting the height of the easel and setting the paints the brushes where she could reach them.
Libby took the brush in her left hand, painting awkward black lines until she got tired and gave up. “Will you?” she asked, looking at Nate around the ice he was pressing to her face.
Wordlessly, he took the brush and angled the easel toward him.
“Paint me,” she said softly.
“Okay, but you have to hold that on your face,” Nathaniel told her gently.
When she did, Nate obeyed, painting Libby as he knew she imagined herself today, covered in big, black fear.
“Now use red. Cover it,” she instructed, tired. Red was her self-worth, her fight, and Christian in his red coat, protecting her.
As her eyes fell closed, Libby gave a final instruction. “Title it: Superhero, and make sure it doesn’t get lost.”
“Promise,” Nate said softly. “Now you get some sleep.
--
There was a fierce pounding on the door, and Cary ran to open it. He found Jon and Morgan, looking furious, standing on the Walkers’ front step.
“Why the hell do I have 12 billion messages saying that Liam beat the shit out of Libby?” Morgan demanded lowly.
“He’s on TV already! Apparently, he put some kind of status update about how sorry he is, and how he’s at fault and he’ll go to anger management. Didn’t mention that he took a shower at our house, and used Morgan’s towel to dry his pansy ass. He was all over her bed and updated from Morgan’s computer!” Jon exclaimed, not bothering to keep his voice down.
Cary blocked their entrance and closed the door behind them, keeping Morgan and Jon outside. “Because it’s true. He beat her pretty badly. She’s got a concussion and cuts and bruises. She needed stitches. Her nose is broken. Christian came in at the end of it. Apparently scared Liam off. He called 911 and stayed with her. Lucky said he walked in there and found CJ bare-chested, his coat, sweatshirt and tee shirt wrapped around her arms. He threw himself over her body and said if they touched her, he would knock their damn heads off. He spent most of the time trying to get the tape off her mouth.”
Jon put an arm around Morgan and held her close, grateful beyond words that she wasn’t the one so badly injured, but angry, too, that Liam would dare raise a hand to a woman like that.
Cary’s eyes looked bluer somehow in the fading outdoor light. He was sober-faced, without the smile that Morgan and Jon were so used to seeing.
Just then, Emily pulled into the driveway. “Jess asked if you two wanted to take him for the night. If not Nathaniel and I will. Jess, Coby and Em are taking shifts with Libby tonight. The concussion and everything. They want to make sure she doesn’t get worse.”
“We can take him,” Morgan volunteered.
“All right. He’s not too comfortable with the hero label. Just a head’s up. I’ll run in and get his bag. Jess and Coby don’t want him seeing Libby like this.”
Cary excused himself, while Christian made a beeline for the two on the steps. “Hey, Jon and Morgan! I ate so much pizza tonight! Almost as much as Emily!”
Emily gave them both hugs and whispered how grateful she was that they all still had each other, and then excused herself, going inside to check on Libby. The sentiment was enough to make Jon a little misty, so, to distract himself, he studied the kid’s wardrobe. It seemed she didn’t only get him pizza but also a new winter coat, to replace the one he used helping Libby. It was exactly like of the one he had before. The tags were still on. When Christian caught Jon staring, he unzipped his jacket and showed off the new white tee shirt and Patriots jersey she had bought him.
“Bam!” Christian exclaimed. “Look at that. Awesome, huh? Emily found a good deal on it. It’s way better than the sweater I went to school with, but don’t tell Mom and Dad or they might feel bad.”
“Wow!” Morgan exclaimed, picking him up and spinning him around. “Hey, do you want to come and spend the night at our house? We can have a pirate party and watch Pirates of the Caribbean,” she offered, smiling.
She already had ideas. They would go on a treasure hunt. Maybe make a map. Eat popcorn and drink hot chocolate. They would sleep in sleeping bags in front of the TV. Maybe, Jon would pitch a tent for them, and they could have a real campout. It was everything Christian had ever asked for when he spent the night. And Morgan wanted him to have everything. Looking into Jon’s eyes, she knew he agreed.
“Awesome!” Christian exclaimed and then grew very still. “Is Libby okay?”
The door opened again and Jess stepped out, holding an overnight bag and a piece of paper. “Hey CJ. Is it okay if you have a sleepover with Morgan and Jon tonight?”
“Yeah, that’s okay,” he nodded seriously.
Jess reached out and hugged him. “You did everything right,” she told him, feeling pride and hormones making tears imminent. But she took a deep breath, steadying herself. “Here. Libby wanted me to give this to you. She told Nate to paint it.”
Christian took the picture, scrutinized it, and then asked Jon for a pen, because he always kept one behind his ear from work. Then, Christian turned his back, hunched over the paper, using his leg as a table.
Then, he shoved the picture back at his mom.
“Give that back and tell her to keep it,” Christian said, sounding stunningly adult. Then, he put the bag over his shoulder and walked to Jon’s car in the fading light with Morgan and Jonathan in tow.
As snow fell around her, Jess turned the painting over in her hands. It still pictured Libby, with Christian’s red coat over her, but now it said:
REAL MAN Real men don’t hit. Real men protect. Love CJ.
Superhero
Jess sighed. This was one of the million reasons why she loved her son.
He had perspective and was wise beyond his years. He didn’t hesitate to step in and help a friend, even when he was scared. He had integrity. He had strength. He had courage beyond what a child of nearly eight should possess. He was amazing.
She covered her stomach with one hand, waving to Jon, Morgan and CJ with the other, praying that this child would have all the qualities their big brother did, and praying that this child would never have to be as brave as Christian had to be today.
Once the car disappeared down the street, Jess let herself inside, preparing for a long night, but grateful that Coby, Cary and Nathaniel and Emily were all gathered quietly in the living room. Sometimes they prayed and sometimes they just sat. Cary, watched the TV on mute, being careful to keep it tuned to safe channels like Nickelodeon and Disney, so there wouldn’t be an inadvertent news report. Libby didn’t need that.
Once supper was made, Jess settled down beside Libby, so she would always know someone was nearby. Emily also hung around upstairs while Coby, Nate and Cary went to see what they could start repairs on the room downstairs.
Now, more than ever, they were determined that Libby have a place of her own to do her art. A place where she could have peace and not worry about anything. And Jess knew that with her husband and Nate and Cary on the job, it would get done.
And it would be beautiful.
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