OCR Text |
Show house/ 393 a wolf in the cubbyhole, how I had made myself go upstairs in the dark house so that I would not have to sleep with Aunt Helga. I would rather brave wolves and sleep with my brothers. And I had done it, walked through the darkness, feeling each step cautiously, holding my breath as I brushed past the furry tail. I could do it again. "All right. But you'll have to behave yourself." He did not take me home, but drove to where the sagebrush rimmed the western foothills. We parked and looked down on the lights of the city. But when he tried to pull me over to him, my nails flashed and I was ready to bite and scream. A thrill of terror passed over my heart. Perhaps I would never make it home - my body would be found here with the jackrabbits and the last rattlesnakes and lizards. I wondered what my No-my father always accepteddeath as timely, father would do. Would he cry?A Would he' be sorry? A*I pushed against him. "You'll be sorry," I warned. "I told you I only give things away." "You'll never give it away," he sulked. "Oh...you don't know..." My vc-ice was heavy with promise. "You haven't seen anything yet." And so my game continued throughout June and beyond the date Brian had set for our marriage. Each time we were together, my excitement grew. I was fencing with danger, learning to survive. Each time I left him I was eager for the next bout. I was learning about men - about men who take, who impose whatever they want. As do all men, I told myself. I made him talk about himself. "I can't make love with a stranger," I told him. "Not until I know something |