The Great Alone

Her face hurt so much it made her sick to her stomach. The taste of blood was making her gag, and with every breath her nose made a whistling sound. She got a rag wet and pressed it to her face, wiped blood away.

How had Mama endured this pain over and over?

She rinsed the rag, twisted out the pink water of her blood, and dampened it again, then returned to the living room, which smelled of gun smoke and gore and blood.

Mama knelt on the floor. She’d pulled Dad into her lap and was rocking him back and forth, crying. There was blood everywhere: on her hands, her knees. She’d smeared it across her eyes.

“Mama?” Leni leaned down, touched her mother’s shoulder.

Her mother looked up, blinking groggily. “I didn’t know how else to stop him.”

“What do we do?” Leni said.

“Get on the ham radio. Call the police,” Mama said in a lifeless voice.

The police. Finally. After all these years, they would get some help. “We will be okay, Mama. You’ll see.”

“No, we won’t, Leni.”

Leni wiped blood from her mother’s face, just as she’d done so often before. Mama didn’t even flinch. “What do you mean?”

“They’ll call it murder.”

“Murder? But he was beating us. You saved my life.”

“I shot him in the back, Leni. Twice. Juries and defense attorneys don’t like people shot in the back. It’s fine. I don’t care.” She pushed the hair out of her face, left bloody streaks. “Go tell Large Marge. She’s a lawyer, or was. She’ll handle it.” Mama sounded drugged; her speech was slow. “You’ll have your fresh start. You’ll raise your baby here in Alaska, among our friends. Tom will be like a father to you. I know it. And Large Marge adores you. Maybe college is still a possibility.” She looked at Leni. “It was worth it. I want you to know that. I’d do it again for you.”

“Wait. Are you talking about leaving me? About prison?”

“Just go get Large Marge.”

“You are not going to prison for killing a man that everyone in town knew was abusive.”

“I don’t care. You’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

“What if we get rid of him?”

Mama blinked. “Get rid of him?”

“We could make it so this never happened.” Leni got to her feet. Yes. This was the answer. They would devise a way to erase what they’d done. Then they could stay here, she and Mama, and live among their friends, in this place they’d grown to love. The baby would be loved by all of them, and when Matthew finally got better, Leni would be waiting.

“That’s not as easy as it sounds, Leni,” Mama said.

“This is Alaska. Nothing is easy, but we’re tough, and if you go to prison, I’ll be alone. With a baby to raise. I can’t do it without you. I need you, Mama.”

It was a moment before Mama said, “We’d need to hide the body, make sure it never gets found. The ground is too frozen to bury him.”

“Right.”

“But Leni,” she said evenly. “You’re talking about another crime.”

“Letting you be called a murderer? That would be a crime. You think I’m going to trust the law with your life? The law? You told me the law didn’t protect abused women, and you were right. He got out of jail in a few days. When did the law ever protect you from him? No. No.”

“Are you sure, Leni? It means you’ll have to live with it.”

“I can live with it. I’m sure.”

Mama took a while to consider, then extracted herself from Dad’s limp, bloody body, and stood. She went into her bedroom and came out a few moments later dressed in insulated pants and a turtleneck. She dumped her bloody clothes in a heap by Dad’s body. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Don’t open the door to anyone except me.”