Becky Lynn took a deep breath as she cleared the railroad tracks. The air always seemed a bit sweeter this side of the tracks, the breeze a degree or two cooler. She stepped up her pace, hoping to get to the shop early enough to spend a few minutes looking over the Bazaar that had come the day before.
Up ahead, Becky Lynn caught sight of a fire-engine red pickup truck barreling past the square, coming in her direction, a cloud of dust in its wake. Tommy Fischer and his jock gang, she thought, her heart beginning to rap against the wall of her chest. Probably on their way to pick up her brother. She darted a glance to either side of the road, to the fields thick with cotton, knowing there was no place to hide but searching for one, anyway. Sighing, she folded her arms across her middle, jerked her chin up and kept on walking.
The group of boys began to howl the moment they saw her. “Hey, Becky Lynn,” one of the teenagers called, “how about a date?” In response, the other three boys began to hoot in amusement. “Yeah, looking good, Becky Lynn. My dad’s Labrador retriever’s been lonely lately.”
That brought a fresh burst of amusement from the boys, and she tightened her fingers into fists, but kept walking, never glancing their way. Even if it killed her, she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of knowing how much their comments hurt.
Tommy slowed the truck more, swerving to the road’s dusty shoulder. “Hey, baby…check it out.” From the corner of her eyes she saw the two boys in the back of the pickup unzip their flies and pull out their penises. “If you weren’t so ugly,” taunted Ricky, the meanest of the group, “I’d even let you touch it. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby?”
The urge to run, as fast and far as she could, screamed through her. She fought the urge back, compressing her lips to keep from making a sound of revulsion and fear.
Ricky leaned over the side of the truck and made a lewd grab for her, forcing her to step off the shoulder and into the muddy field. Tommy gunned the engine and tore off, spitting up gravel and dirt, the boys’ laughter ringing in her ears.
Becky Lynn ran then, the gravel road biting the bottoms of her feet through her tattered sneakers, the bile of panic nearly choking her. She ran until she reached the safety of Bend’s town square.
Drawing in deep, shuddering breaths, Becky Lynn leaned against the outside wall of the Five and Dime, the corner building on the railroad side of the square. She pressed the flat of her hand to her pitching stomach and squeezed her eyes shut. Sweat beaded her upper lip and underarms; it trickled between her shoulder blades. The image of the boys, holding their penises and taunting her, filled her head, and her stomach rolled again. They’d never done anything like that before. She was used to their taunts, their obscene suggestions, but not…this.
Today they’d scared her.
Becky Lynn hugged herself hard. She was safe, she told herself. It was getting toward the end of summer, the boys were bored and got off on seeing her squirm. In a month they would start football practice and wouldn’t have the time or energy to seek her out.
Then she would have to face their jeers at school.
She fought against the tears that flooded her eyes, fought against the despair that filled every other part of her. She had nobody. Not one person in Bend she could turn to for help or support. Alone. She was alone.
Even as fatigue and hopelessness clutched at her, Becky Lynn curled her fingers into fists. She wouldn’t give up like her mother had. She wouldn’t. And someday, she promised herself, she would show Tommy and Ricky and everybody else in this two-bit town. She didn’t know how, but someday they would wish they’d been nice to her.
2
Becky Lynn managed to avoid Tommy Fischer and his gang for an entire week. It hadn’t been easy, they had seemed to be everywhere, just cruising, looking for trouble. Looking for something to ease their boredom, she supposed. She had made up her mind it wouldn’t be her.
Darting a quick, uneasy glance behind her, she stepped onto the square and started for the Cut ‘n Curl, moving as fast as she could without running. Bend, named for its location at a bend in the Tallahatchie River between Greenwood and Greenville, had been built around a town square. The civic and commercial center of town, the courthouse, police station and mayor’s office were all located here, as well as the two best dress shops in town—the nearest mall being in either Greenwood or Greenville, the nearest real city Memphis. Shaded by magnolia and mimosa trees, sprinkled with azalea and oleander bushes, the square was the closest Bend, Mississippi, got to the places Becky Lynn saw in her magazines.
But not close enough, she thought, hearing familiar laughter and the gun of an engine behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and her heart flew to her throat. Tommy Fischer had decided to take a swing around the square.
The Cut ‘n Curl in sight now, she started to run, reaching the shop in moments. She pushed through the door with such force that the brass bell hanging above it snapped against the glass.
Miss Opal stood at the first hair station, adding another coat of spray to her platinum blond beehive. She set down the can of spray and turned to Becky Lynn. “What’s the rush, child? You look like you’ve seen the devil himself.”
Driving a bright red pickup. Becky Lynn sucked in a deep breath and forced a smile. “No, ma’am. I just didn’t want to be late.”
Miss Opal smiled. “You’re never late, Becky Lynn. And I want you to know, I do appreciate it.”
Heat stung Becky Lynn’s cheeks, and she folded her arms self-consciously across her chest. “You want me to start straightening up?”
Miss Opal tilted her head and drew her eyebrows together in concern. “You okay today, Becky Lynn? You look a little pale.”
“Yes, ma’am. Fine.”
As if unconvinced, Miss Opal slid her gaze over her, eyes narrowed behind her rhinestone-studded cat glasses. She stopped on Becky Lynn’s feet. “Did you eat this morning?”
Certain the woman could see her toes poking against the too-tight canvas sneakers, Becky Lynn shifted, propping one foot self-consciously on top of the other. “Well…no. But I wasn’t hungry.”
Miss Opal shook her head, which was as close to critical as she ever got. Becky Lynn had long ago decided that the hairdresser had about the biggest heart in Bend. Rumor around town held that Miss Opal came from trash herself, from over in Yazoo City. Rumor also told that she had managed to escape by cracking her daddy over the head with an iron skillet and emptying his pockets of his pay. Becky Lynn didn’t believe any of it, Miss Opal seemed way too nice to have done any of those things. And if she had, Becky Lynn figured her daddy had deserved it.
“You’d better run right over to the Tastee Creme. Marianne Abernathy is our first appointment and if the doughnuts aren’t here, I’ll never hear the end of it.” Miss Opal made a clucking sound with her tongue. “Ever since Doc Tyson put her on a diet, Ed counts each bite she puts in her mouth. I reckon she’s been looking forward to getting her hair done all week.”
She opened the cash drawer, took out a five and handed it to Becky Lynn. “Go on now and get those doughnuts. And don’t forget the ones with the strawberry jam.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Becky Lynn hesitated at the door, thinking of Tommy and his pickup full of boys. What if they were out there waiting for her? She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and looked hopefully at her boss. “You sure you don’t want me to straighten up first? It would only take a few minutes. I’d be happy to do it.”
The woman frowned and shifted her gaze from Becky Lynn to the bright day beyond. She returned her gaze to Becky Lynn, looking her straight in the eye. “You’re sure nothing’s wrong, child? Because if there is, I want you to feel you can come to me.”
Becky Lynn stared at the older