The Dragons, the Giant, the Women, стр. 33

“Trick or treat,” K giggled under the covers.

“Trick or treat,” Wi repeated.

I closed my eyes to their muffled twitters until my body melted into the pink sheets and pillows. Their voices echoed in a dim and empty space until the laughter vanished and I stood on my bare feet on what felt like strewn pebbles. I took a step forward and I was back in Monrovia on a distorted dirt road with no end and infinite fields of yellow grass on either side. To the right of me, my father stood with his arms crossed and looked angrily ahead of us. He wore a torn shirt with mud and blood stains, and his body was reduced to a flesh-colored skeleton whose joints prodded from underneath his skin when he moved too sharply in one direction.

“Come,” he said and took my hand. His shoes were backward on his feet and like slippers they slapped the road as we walked.

“Papa, where we going?” I asked.

He did not look down or respond. His pulled me with one hand and swung the other.

“Come,” he repeated and squeezed my hand so hard that I felt it in my head.

“Papa, you’re hurting me,” I whimpered.

“Come,” he said again, still refusing to look down at my face.

“Please, can we stop?”

A wooden house with a broken front door appeared ahead on our right. A figure that I could not make out from where I stood appeared on the porch of the house. Startled, I stopped, but Papa continued walking, his eyes now on the house. The echoing giggles of my lost sisters returned.

“Can we stop?” I cried out to him.

“Come!” he shouted.

He stopped in front of the house and it disappeared. Papa laughed. A small boy, naked except for a red baseball cap that floated over his head, turned to face us as his penis wagged below him. Papa continued laughing as the boy gripped a shiny golden rifle. He pointed the rifle our way and I attempted to pull my hand out of my father’s grasp.

“Run!” I yelled, but he stayed still and concentrated on the young boy.

The boy lifted the weapon over his head and smirked. He then took the gun and, tilting his head back with an opened mouth, he slid it down his throat until it disappeared. When the boy was finished, he smacked his lips and vanished. Panting and crying now, I looked up at Papa, who appeared unmoved by what he had just seen. He stopped laughing and continued down the road, pulling my hand as I struggled to release myself.

Ahead of us several black dogs with drooping tongues barked viciously at us. Papa stopped walking and gazed at the large dogs.

“Run!” I screamed, and hid behind his back from the sight of the malevolent creatures.

“No. Come!” he shouted and took a step toward the dogs. They stopped barking, so he took another step. They then disappeared. When he took a third step toward where the dogs had challenged him, an army of rebels with guns and knives appeared in their place. Papa’s eyes grew so wide that the bottom lids dropped to his chin.

“Run! They’re coming!” I shouted. And still holding my hand, he turned around and ran in the opposite direction of the rebels. Dragged on my knees and bleeding as we ran, I looked back as the rebels gained speed and charged toward us.

“They’re coming, Papa! They’re coming!” I howled, and my father’s laughter, along with the laughter of my lost sisters, pressed onto my ears.

“They’re coming for us!” I belted and cried, attempting to gain footing to ease the blood from escaping my knees.

“Run. They’re coming! They’re coming for us! Run!” I shouted against the resonating cackles. I turned around again and a rebel’s heartless face and eyes, his cruel lips and tongue, were in my face.

“They’re coming!” I shouted again and he reached out his hand to grab my dress. I felt him gaining behind me and hollered.

When I opened my eyes, K ran away from the bed to stand with my Mam and Papa. The light glowered brightly above my head and my face and pillow were wet.

“Jesus,” Mam said and raised a quavering hand to her mouth.

I was dreaming, I realized, and had somehow woken up everybody in the house with my screaming. I rubbed my eyes to see their faces clearly. They stood watching me. I sat up in bed and Mam and Papa finally came toward me with outstretched hands, careful as though I had been newly injured and they were afraid of breaking any more bones.