Part 10 (2/2)

Bobby was confused, because he was a little slow in the head, so maybe he couldn't understand just how terrible my situation was, but that didn't make my predicament any better.

I stood there next to him for a long minute, smothered by more fear and anger than I'd felt since first waking from my amnesia, six months earlier.

Bobby had remained abnormally silent. When he turned his head and looked up at me, his eyes were swimming in tears.

”Are you my sister?” he whispered in a strained voice.

My anger softened. But only a little. I didn't want to answer, because right then I didn't want to be Bobby's sister.

A soft whimpering sound broke the focus I'd placed on my misery. It grew, and I realized that Bobby had responded to my silence by crying. He stood there on the bank, staring out at the black water with tears leaking down his face. Sobbing softly, with a hitch in his cry.

”Bobby?”

He kept crying. And hearing him, a new fear rose in me. A concern for him. For Bobby. He stood before me as innocent as a dove, and yet crushed. I couldn't, in good conscience, ignore him.

I put my hand on his shoulder. ”It's okay, Bobby. Please don't cry.”

He responded by turning into me, mouth open and strained as he cried.

”Please don't leave me.” He said it hitching through his sobs. And with those words, my heart broke for him.

And he wasn't done.

”I don't want you to go . . .” he cried, slowly pressing his head into my shoulder.

I put my arm around his shoulders and held him close. ”Sh, sh . . . it's okay, Bobby.”

But it wasn't going to be okay, was it? There was a deep fear in Bobby's cry that chilled me to the bone. He was hiding something behind his simple mind that reduced him to tears.

”It's going to be okay,” I said, putting both arms around him. I knew that he wanted to hear me say that I wasn't going and it seemed to me that, at least for now, that was the truth, even if not by my own choosing. But still the truth.

”It's okay, Bobby. I'm not going. I promise, I'm not going anywhere.”

Immediately his crying eased. Then stopped after a few sniffs. His face went blank and his eyes were closed, and I wondered what was going on in his mind.

And then, almost as suddenly as it had begun, his dark mood left him. He opened his eyes and straightened, staring up at me like a puppy.

”Can I teach you how to fish?” he asked. And then quickly, ”Do you like moons.h.i.+ne? It makes you pure.”

”I think I might like fis.h.i.+ng,” I said.

His face lit up. ”I caught a big catfis.h.!.+ Bigger than my arm.”

”You did?”

”Do you like to eat fish?”

”I think so.”

”I like fish. Do you like eggs?”

I smiled at him. ”Yes, I like eggs.”

He laughed, delighted, snorting. It was the cutest little laugh I had ever heard and I nearly laughed aloud with him. But I was too overwhelmed with my own predicament to go that far.

”Mommy has a surprise for you tomorrow.”

My mind was pulled back to the fact that Kathryn actually was my mother. Mommy. It sounded strange. And Brother. Bobby really was my brother. My own flesh and blood.

”What kind of surprise?”

He shrugged. ”She said you're going to make everything perfect again.”

I had no idea what that could mean.

”Bobby, can I ask you a question?”

”Sure.”

”Does Mommy ever hurt you?”

He looked at me with a blank stare. ”Hurt me?”

”Why are you so afraid of me going away?”

”I . . . Because you're my sister.”

”That's right.” I smiled at him. ”And you're my brother.”

He beamed like a full moon. ”You're my friend.”

And maybe his only friend, I thought.

”But Mommy doesn't ever hurt you? Maybe when you're naughty?”

He looked out at the lake. ”No.”

”Never?”

”Mommy said that if you go, there will be no one left to save me.”

”Save you? From what?”

He shrugged. ”From sin. I'm not perfect like you are. I was born bad.”

I knew then that I couldn't leave Bobby alone, at least not until I knew that he was going to be okay without me. Or unless I could take him with me.

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