At fault

My sister was on the swings.
Her long golden curls framing her golden face.
Her eyes bright blue, like a doll. A five year old doll.

While you stared at my sister swinging, I was staring at you. You wore a white short-sleeved shirt and had a plastic pocket protector full of pens, like my uncle's. Your pants were black and your shoes were shiny. You were tall, but all adults were tall to me when I was seven. In my child's memory I dress you in a trench coat, but that has to be wrong. It was mid summer in Kansas and at least 90 degrees. Even in your white shirt, you would be sweating. Or maybe it was fall, almost winter. In my child's memory I see brown trees and gray sky. Surely this could not have happened on a sunny day.

My knees were scabs and my white skin never seemed to glow like my sister's. She was all dimples and giggles. I was brooding and annoying. She was snow white and I was ugly and you wanted her.

You walked behind her and took the chains in your hands and pulled her back against your chest. There was a pause as if you were inhaling her, then you pushed, and she flew.

At first you did not notice I was talking to you. It took quite a bit to get you to focus on me and not the doll on the swing, but I did my best to show how interesting I could be. The doll barely spoke but I was fluent in adult chatter and you seemed amused that I sought you out.

I lead you away. You followed me deeper into the park. I found a bar and showed you my tricks and you smiled with your wolf's teeth and I pretended not to notice. I wanted to reach a very high trapeze. I asked you to help me. You picked me up by the armpits and pulled me against your chest. There was a pause as you made sure the pens in your pocket caught the front of my shirt and pulled it open so you could look down my chest to see my nipples. I struggled to get out of your arms but held me tight as your eyes lingered. Then you lifted me within reach of the trapeze and said, "See, I am just helping you up."

My sister had wandered to where we were. I had to let you help me down, it was too far to drop. You were smiling at my sister as your hand moved between my legs and you pressed your fingers into me.

Your car was parked by the water fountain. I told you I was thirsty. I told you my sister was thirsty. When she was next to me at the fountain, I knew there was no explaining - so I just whispered in her ear, "RUN!" I ran us through the space in the fence I knew your car could not follow. I ran us six blocks without stopping to grandmother's house, where our mother was.

I told my mother what you did.
I told everyone what you did.
But I was always talking, talking, talking.
They thought it was just another story.
And I thought it was all my fault.