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Show 65 head, the torn skin bleeding. It was a nasty tear. She pressed her fingers firmly on the ragged skin, trying to force it together. Again he screamed, and again. Until he suddenly stopped-he did not have air enough in him for another. The skin would not close, a small patch of the scalp had been torn away with the hair. With her fingers still pressed on the tear, she tried to pick him up. To carry him to the bathroom to stop the bleeding, to get a bangage on it. To wash away the blood. But he clung so tightly to her legs, she could not lift him. "Come on, Marty," she hugged him to her, "come on, dear, let's go wash up." "Daddy hurt me!" he buried his face into her, "Daddy hurt me!" Oscar wouldn't do that. Oh god no, she thought, he wouldn't do that. But he had. Beyond any doubt, she knew that he had. Taking a deep breath, trying to control her voice, she said, "Let's go now, Marty, and clean up." At the bedroom door Katie appeared in her robe, just out of the shower, hair dripping. "What happened?" "Daddy hurt me!" he wailed in fearful outrage, and gasping a breath, began sobbing. Anger flashed across Katie's face. "Let me see," she said bending down beside him. Sobbing, he shook his head no against Sharon's legs. At the door Jeanne appeared with large eyes. "Where's Oscar?" Katie demanded. In a small voice, Jeanne said, "He just left." "I'll bet he did," Kaite said, "I'll just bet he did." |
