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Show Moon - 108 At the house, Joy yawned elaborately and told him she was tired. He kissed her goodnight, a feather's touch on her forehead, and she turned to go to her room, much relieved. From the doorway, he blew her a kiss and said, "I love you." She thought about locking her bedroom door, but felt ashamed, unwilling to give so much credence to her fears. She changed into her nightgown, turned out the light, and slipped under the sheets. To give into her worry would make it real. It was a delicate balance-animal-keen terror on one side, tact and respect on the other. As if she held uncanny power in her mind, she felt that if she tipped the scale onto her fear, then everything else-her hope for father-love, for a home, for her mother-would slide off, never to be recovered. But, as she partly knew it would, the doorknob turned, and James came into her dark room. She switched on the bedside light. He was wearing only his undershorts. He sat down on the edge of her bed. "You know you love me," he said. Every possible reply seemed wrong, so she was silent. He began kissing her neck. She wrenched away from him, sat up, crying "No!" He pulled her down so he was curled up behind her, father spoon, and cupped a breast. "Please, Daddy, don't," she whispered, her voice thin and gone from herself like a far-away bird. She tried to twist away again, but his breathing quickened, and she could see that this moving away excited him. Deep inside herself she reached for a refusal that would clang louder than moving away, louder than words. |