by Cyn Bagley

Created on: August 06, 2007   Last Updated: May 04, 2010

The Scorpion's Voice

"Kat, it's my turn," Stephie said. She tried to pull the binoculars out of my hands. Clink. They bumped my glasses.

I rolled away from her, pebbles clinging to my stomach.

"Just a minute," I said. I trained the binoculars on the small trailer next to the road.

"But, it's my turn."

I didn't answer her. You see, Stephie was the one who had insisted on this little jaunt. And, Stephie was the one who spent much of her time coming to this spot with Dad's binoculars. No, this time it was my turn.

We were stretched out on the hard ground, elbows supporting bodies in small stones and gravel. The greasewood in front of us provided a screen to protect our spying. The greasewood, a plump oily plant, grew along a small ditch that we called a canal. It supplied water for irrigation and for our stock.

Our neighbor. Physically, he was big enough and strong enough to carry the two of us all day. But, like a beast of burden, he was mentally weak. We were fascinated with this child in a man's body. What did he do? How did he live? Why did he live with his parents?

We lived in a community that didn't recognize weakness. A family that lived five miles away from us hid their retarded child in an attic room until she died. At her funeral, we looked into the coffin, fascinated, trying to understand why a family would lock up a child. She was a child in an adult's body.

Maybe she was soooo ugly Stephie had said before the music swelled, signaling the start of the funeral. I guessed that she was violent. But, we couldn't tell. We only saw the corpse of a sad old woman.

I watched Troy walk out of the trailer. He raised his hands above his head, stretching his whole body. We could see his stomach peeking from under the bottom of his shirt.

"Let me see. Let me see," chanted Stephie.

"Shush," I said.

He looked toward the east. The morning colors changed from black and white to full color.
I handed Stephie the binoculars.

"He just walked inside," she said. "What did you see?"

"Nothing."

I rolled over until I was on my back. The smell of greasewood, the soft gentle light of dawn and my tiredness put me to sleep. I closed my eyes.

"You only give me the binoculars when nothing's happening," I heard. Stephie was already tired of holding the binoculars. They were heavy. I turned to look at her.

"It was your idea," I said. I liked to piss her off. My little sister. More like my bigger younger sister. She was much larger than me. I was slim and she was stocky. I was blonde

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