Out of Breath

Chapter 8

"Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty." I can hear counting somewhere in my head. The sensation of soft lips forms over my mouth. Air is blown into my lungs, once, twice. I have never had CPR done to me before, but the air feels commanding like there is more to it than expelled carbon dioxide.

"One, two, three, four..." the counting begins again as I feel massive pressure against my heart. I hear a crack. My eyes open.

Desdemona is preforming compressions on me. My foggy head forces me to close my eyes. The compressions hurt. Just as her lips meet mine again, inlaying me with her power. I sit up and push her off me.

"You're alive!" she says. "It really works. Who would have thought?"

For a moment, I can't remember what brought me to this state. What happened? Why would Desdemona need to perform CPR on me?

My head pounds like a timpani player is inside slamming my poor brain. Wet clothes stick to my body.

"What happened?"

"You don't remember?" she asks, glancing away.

I look around. We are at the pond. Of course, we are at the pond. Where else would we be? On the ground is her box with the raven carved into it. Suddenly my memories rush back.

The bait.

It had pulled me under.

I had drowned.

She must have saved me and did CPR on me.

A memory of me teaching her CPR plays through my head. Wow, good thing I had taught her that, otherwise, I would be dead.

"I wouldn't let you die," she says as she sits next to me, touching my knee. Why does she always have to touch my knee? But worse, she must be reading my mind again. I twitch.

"I am glad you taught me CPR, but I know other forms of bringing someone back from the dead." Her voice is silky and yet, menacing.

I jump up. Okay, it's time to go!

...

Raven scoots next to me at the dinner table. Terry is in a mood tonight. Ma usually has dinner done by now, but when she got home, she took a nap, something Terry does all-day-long, but apparently, Ma is not allowed to be tired.

"Boy's, when you marry, do better than I did," Terry says as he womps Ma on her rear. "Your Ma has been an awful disappointment."

"You're the disappointment," I jump out of my chair and spit my words in his face. Seven months of rage has compressed too long.

SLAP. His gigantic hand meets my face and drops me to the floor. He smashes my pride, and I hold the tears in. I hate pain.

"Just as worthless as your Ma," he says as he kicks my side. My muscles cramp to his assault. Worthless me. I can't even defend my mother.

Ma drops next to me, but he yanks her up by her arm.

"Don't worry about him; worry about my dinner."

What a prick.

Raven dashes under the table and moans as he rocks back and forth. He is frightened.

"This old man, he ain't old, he just got himself a load..." Terry bellows out an old spiritual to the point of hurting our ears. Raven covers his ears at the same time as I do. The hounds howl. Ma, probably to drown out his singing, starts the blender. The noise level is out of control.

I sit up, just as Terry brings his big wide load into my face and farts. It is horrific. The worst smell ever. I cough as my eyes water. I close them. The only thing I can do to suppress it is to hold my breath.