The Secret Sense of Wildflower by Susan Gabriel

expression changes as fast as a lightning strike. He touches his nose. A fresh trickle of blood comes from inside. With new determination, he wraps his fingers around my neck until I can’t breathe. I squirm to get away and search his face for a sign of mercy. There is none. It occurs to me that Johnny Monroe’s hateful face will be the last thing I see before I die.
    He loosens his grip to whisper in my ear, and I suck much-needed air into my lungs. “If you tell anybody about this, I’ll kill you,” he says. “Y’hear that? You can’t hide from me. I’ll find you and kill you dead!”
    I nod, thinking it’s over, that Johnny’s had a change of heart. He’s going to let me go, as long as I promise not to ever tell anyone. But instead he tightens his grip again and unhooks the belt on his pants. There is no fight left in me. My heartbeat echoes in my ears. I pray to God to be rescued and ask him to send Daddy. I offer wordless prayers to the trees, the river, and the land and then apologize to Mama for getting myself hurt and to Aunt Sadie for not paying attention to what she taught me about the secret sense.
    I close my eyes and surrender. Seconds later Daddy comes toward me. He stands, surrounded by light, and holds out his hand for me to take. I float toward the treetops to meet him and he takes me into his arms. When I look back, I see my body still lying on the ground, Johnny on top of me. I wonder briefly how I can be two places at once. But it doesn’t really matter. All that matters is that Daddy is here. A year ago he left, but now he’s back. He’s come to take me with him.
     
     

CHAPTER EIGHT

    One Year Earlier
     
    Daniel McBride comes to the schoolhouse during recess. I’ve seen him around because he works at the Blackstone sawmill with Daddy. Jo has had a secret crush on him ever since he came to our house last Christmas. Daddy always invites anybody that doesn’t have family nearby to come to our house on holidays because he says we have enough family and food to share. Daniel used to live up North and he is the only Yankee I’ve ever seen up close. Since jobs were scarce, he moved to Rocky Bluff to take a position with the railroad. When that didn’t work out he took a job at the sawmill, where Daddy is his supervisor. Most people have forgiven him for being a Yankee on account of how nice he is.
    Breathless, Daniel’s sweat soaks into his shirt. He leans over and whispers something to Mr. Webster, my teacher since first grade, who is sitting in the shade grading papers. Mr. Webster turns and looks over at me on the swing, his face solemn. Mr. Webster is strict, but fair, and always wears a suit coat like being a school teacher is as important as the President of the United States.
    “Louisa May, you need to go home right away,” Mr. Webster says.
    “Why?” I ask. I’ve never in six years of schooling been told to go home.
    He looks at Daniel and then back at me. “You’re needed at home,” he repeats, as if this is all the reason I should need.
    “But why?” I ask. “What’s happened?”
    Mr. Webster hardens his face and I remember the last time I had to write I will not talk back to Mr. Webster a hundred times on the blackboard.
    “Come on, Louisa May,” Daniel says. He stands and motions toward the truck.
    “What’s going on?” Mary Jane asks, walking over from the swing.
    “Nobody will say,” I tell Mary Jane, “but it can’t be good.”
    “Good luck,” Mr. Webster says as I leave.
    It feels weird for Mr. Webster to wish me anything, especially good luck. Not to mention how strange it is to go home so early in the day. Sometimes on the last day of school we get to go home early, but never at the first of the year and never before lunch. Even if a big snowstorm hits, we are expected to make it in and stay the full day.
    Daniel holds the door open to the sawmill truck while I step inside. He gets in on the drivers side and starts the truck. Flecks of sawdust stick