Lay Me Down

Chapter Two

The sun had already dipped low on the horizon of the Virginia sky when the black car pulled into the neighbor's driveway. Kylee didn't know anything about cars, what body went to which brand, but she knew just from the sound—or lack of it—as the vehicle came to a stop that it was one of the nicer ones.

A man stepped out of the driver's side, but Kylee's view was blocked by the moving truck that pulled up beside the car. She sat up taller on the crumbling porch step. Neighbors. No one had lived next to the Mansfields in years.

Kylee glanced over her shoulder, through the screen door that barricaded the flies from entering her mother's house. She could hear the slurred drone of her stepfather's voice from the living room, her mother's tepid responses. No one was paying any attention to her.

She pushed herself off the porch and stepped through the knee-high weeds that choked the front yard. The sun silhouetted the men as they stood behind the moving truck, blocking out their features. Still, it wasn't hard to make out the tailored suit the driver of the car wore as he directed the two men in t-shirts and overalls.

Kylee wanted another look at that car. So far, they were too busy unloading the moving van to notice her. She stole a glance at the house sitting at the end of the long driveway. It was a gorgeous, white-washed building, full of character and history, like many of the houses in Pungo. Unfortunately, some idiot missed the memo and built a two-bedroom bungalow not fifty yards away.

No wonder no one wanted to live next to them. As if the weeds threatening to go native in the yard, the run-down, rusted blue pick-up, and Bill's beat-up clunker weren't enough, the roof of the house sagged in the middle. Paint peeled from the sides and the gutter had come loose. It now dangled precariously over the concrete steps.

A mosquito buzzed in her ear, and Kylee slapped her neck before it bit her. She'd somehow escaped the summer with not a single bug bite. Probably because she spent almost every moment trapped inside.

"Kylee."

Her mother's voice carried to Kylee's ears. She jerked away from the split-rail fence separating the two yards and hurried back to the house before her mother could call again. Last thing she wanted was for the new neighbors to notice her. She pushed open the screen door and entered the living room. The whirling ceiling fan did nothing to ease the humid heat clinging to the walls or disperse the twisted trails of smoke floating from the living room. Kylee resisted the urge to step back outside. "Mom?"

Her mom sat at the kitchen table, head in her hands. She was always sick these days and rarely lugged herself out of bed. She lifted her head,her eyes darting to the screen door behind Kylee. "Were you outside?"

"Just on the porch."

"Bill doesn't like you out there. Did you do the dishes?"

"Not yet." She bit her lip to keep from complaining. Her mom needed her.Bill made their lives miserable; the least she could do was help her mother out.

Last year, when Kylee was still in school and still had friends, she'd gone to Jessica's house for a sleepover. Many high-tech gadgets furnished the house, but the one that most amazed Kylee was the dishwasher. Jessica's mom simply cleared the table, stuck everything in the white box, and pressed a button.

Kylee would never talk about the white box in front of her mom and stepfather again. After the fourth time of bringing it up, Bill had grabbed Kylee by the hair and held her arm under the faucet until the water grew so hot that she screamed.

"We're not good 'nuff for you, that it? You deserve something better?Think you don't belong here?" he had snarled, his rancid breath hot on her face.