Io

Indian Summer

One Indian summer day, while we were walking in Pequot wood, we ran into a gang of older boys, blocking the trail. I'd never seen them before. They looked like twenty miles of bad road. I could tell Jolene was scared, so I walked right up the biggest and said, "Hi, my name is Io."

"Io? That's a boy's name. Guys, look at the girl with a boy's name. You must want to be a boy."

"I am a boy."

"No, you're not. You're just a stupid cow who wants to be a boy."

"Stop saying that."

"What are you going to do? Cry to your mama? Besides, you can't be a boy. Cause a girl doesn't have what a boy has. All you have is a little hole where you pee. And if you don't squat it runs all down your legs."

He glared down at me. He was very tall and very snaggle toothed.

"Besides, you stink like a girl."

"I do?"

"Yep, like a mudcat. Cause you've got squishy stuff between your legs—like a snail has, only it smells just like catfish."

I didn't like the drift of that at all, so I did what my daddy had taught me. I made a fist the way he'd taught me and punched the troll right smack dab in the tummy as hard as I could.

He kind of keeled forward like he was going to puke.

"Run, Jolene! Tell your momma!" She did too. I would have as well, only one of his toadies collared me.

"Hold her tight," the leader said when he could talk again. "I'll show you, Cunt."

He pressed his lips on mine and kissed me hard. Then he licked my face smearing it with his gross spittle.

"Girls like that," he smirked. "They like it when a boy makes them do things they don't want to."

"Maybe so, but I don't."

"You will," he sneered. He had his crew push me to my knees and hold me there. When the goon unzipped his pants and pulled out his peter, I knew I was a goner. I held my head down, looking just at the ground.

He grabbed the ponytail that Jolene had made for me and jerked my head back. "Go ahead. Lick it."

"Stop. You're hurting my me," I said through tears. But I wouldn't cry. I'd die first.

"Lick it and you get to go."

I licked it. It tasted of salt and piss.

"See, I told you," he mocked, pushing my face into the dust. "Stupid bitch."

I never told anyone about that part. Not until now. I was glad for two things. One, I'd spared Jolene. Second, I'd gotten one clean shot into that stupid jerk. But mostly, looking back on that day, I wish I had died. And everyday since, I wish the same exact thing.