If There Be Thorns (Dollanganger 3)

"Hate apple pie." "You said before apple pie was your favorite kind."

"Never said that! Hate chicken too, and mashed potatoes, green salads--hate everything!"

"I believe it," said a disgusted brother who turned his back and ignored someone as picky as me. Then he reached to take a chicken leg from my plate. "Well . . . as long as you don't want it, it shouldn't go to waste." He ate every last piece of the chicken. Now I couldn't sneak into the kitchen late at night and stuff myself when they weren't watching. Let 'em all worry about me fading away to skin and bones, ending up in a damp, cold grave. Let 'em find out how much they missed me.

"Bart, please try and eat a little something," pleaded Momma. "What's wrong with the pie?"

I scowled, then slapped Jory's hand when he reached to take my slice of pie. "Can't eat pie without ice cream on top."

She smiled at me brilliantly, then called, "Emma, bring in the ice cream."

I shoved my plate away and slouched in my chair. "Don't feel so good. Need to be alone. Don't like people making such a fuss over me. Spoils my appetite."

Daddy looked as if he were losing patience with me. He didn't scold Jory for taking my pie either. That's all it took--one hour and they were tired of me and wishing I had died.

"Cathy," said Daddy, "don't plead with Bart anymore. If he doesn't want to eat he can excuse himself. He'll eat when he's hungry enough."

Stomach was rumbling right now. I couldn't eat that stuff in front of me now that Jory had taken away what I wanted most. There I sat, starving, while everyone forgot me and began to talk, laugh and act like I was still in the hospital. I got up and hobbled toward my room. Daddy called, "Bart, I don't want you playing outside until that leg has time to heal thoroughly. Take a nap with your leg propped up. Later on you can watch television."

TV. What kind of homecoming treat was that?

Appearing obedient, I entered my bedroom and stood near the doorway so I could shout to those in the dining room, "Don't nobody disturb my rest!"

Kept me two weeks in that hospital, and now I was home they were gonna keep me locked inside some more. I'd show 'em! Nobody was gonna keep me inside for another rotten week! But somebody kept an eye on me night and day before finally I could escape through the window after six whole days of being kept a prisoner. Already I'd missed too much of summer, and my Disneyland trip. Wasn't gonna miss anything else.

The big ole tree by the wall was not friendly, making it harder for me to climb. By the time I was next door my leg would ache. Pain wasn't nearly as good as I'd thought it would be. Being "normal" wasn't so hot. Jory sprained his ankle once and went right on dancing, ignoring the pain. I could ignore pain too.

When I was on top of the wall I looked behind to see who might be following. Nobody. Nobody cared what I did to hurt myself. Began to sniff--what was that rotten stinking smell coming from out of the hollow oak tree? Ah, I could just remember. Something dead in the hollow tree. What was it? Couldn't remember good anymore. Mind was fuzzy, full of mists that rolled like the fog.

Apple, better to think of Apple. Forget the stiff and aching knee by pretending it belonged to some frail ole man like Malcolm grew up to be. My young leg wanted to run, but my old one controlled all of me, taking over my mind, forcing me to lean heavily on my cane.

Ohh! What a pitiful sight it would be to see poor Apple lying dead in the barn. A pitiful bag of fur, skin and bones. I'd cry, scream, hate those who'd tried to force me to fly East and abandon the very best friend I had. Animals were the only ones who knew how to really love with devotion.

A hundred years had come and gone since last I came this way before. More years passed, it seemed, while I limped to its doors. Get a grip on yourself, I thought. Steel your spine, like Malcolm steeled his. Prepare your eyes for a grisly sight, for Apple loved you too much, and now he had to pay the price by dying. Never, never again would I find such a true friend as the puppy-pony who'd been my Apple.

My balance, never good, swayed me right to left, from front to back, and made me feel hazy and crazy. I sensed something was behind me. I peeked over my shoulder and saw no one there. Nothing but those frightening animal shapes that were only green shrubs. Stupid gardeners should have something better to do than waste their time snipping at bushes when real money was out there waiting f

or real brains to pick it up. Thinking now just like Malcolm; John Amos would be pleased. Had to hunt up John Amos so he could smarten up my brains some more.

Suspecting the worst, I approached the place that Apple liked most. Now I couldn't see. Gone blind! My cane tapped the ground ahead of me. Dark. Why was it so dark? I inched along, peering this way and that. All the barn shutters were closed. Poor Apple, left in the dark to starve. A lump rose in my throat while I cried inside for a pet who'd loved me more than life itself.

I had to force myself to take another step forward. To see Apple dead would scar my soul, my eternal soul which John Amos said had to stay clean and pure if I was to get to heaven's pearly gates where Malcolm had gone.

One step more. I stopped. There was my Apple-- and he wasn't dead! He was in a stall with the window open and he was chasing a red ball, swatting it with his huge pawlike hoofs--and there was plenty of food in his dish. Clean water in his bowl too. I stood there shaking all over as Apple ignored me and went on playing like I wasn't even there. Why, he hadn't missed me at all!

"YOU! YOU!" I screamed. "You've been eating and drinking, and having a good time! And all the time I was at death's door and you didn't care. And I thought you loved me. I thought you'd miss me a whole lot. And now you don't even bark-whinny to tell me you're glad I'm back! I HATE YOU, APPLE! HATE YOU FOR NOT CARING ENOUGH!"

Apple saw me then and ran to me, leaping to put his huge paw-hoofs on my shoulders as he slurped my face. His tail wagged furiously, but he wasn't fooling me. He'd found someone else to take care of him better-- darn if I'd made his coat look so pretty. "Why didn't you die from loneliness?" I shrieked. I glared hatred at him, wanting him to wither away and disappear. He sensed my anger and dropped to all fours and stood with his tail between his legs and his head hanging down, his eyes rolled slantwise.

"YOU GET AWAY FROM ME! YOU NEED TO SUFFER AS I SUFFERED! THEN YOU'LL BE GLAD TO HAVE ME BACK!" I took all his food, his water, and threw them in a wooden barrel. I picked up his red ball and hurled that so far he'd never find it. All the time Apple stood there, watching, not wagging his tail. He wanted me back, but now it was too late.

"You'll miss me now," I sobbed, stumbling away, locking him in the barn with all the windows closed and the shutters too. "Stay in darkness and die of hunger!" I'd never come back, never!

No sooner was I in the sunlight than I thought of the nice soft hay he had inside to lie on. I went into the barn again, seized up a pitchfork and raked all the hay away. He was whimpering now, trying to nuzzle up to me. Wouldn't let him. "You lie on the cold, hard floor! It will make all your bones ache, but I don't care, for I don't love you now!" Angry, I wiped the tears away and scratched my face.

In all my life I'd made only three friends: Apple, my grandmother and John Amos. Apple had killed my love, and one of the other two had betrayed me by feeding him and stealing his love. John Amos wouldn't bother--had to be Grandmother.

Drifted home in a daze. That night my leg ached so badly Daddy came in and gave me a pill. He sat on the side of my bed and held me in his arms, making me feel safe as he spoke softly about falling into sweet dreams.