Beautiful Girls

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ALLIE’S FATHER IS ASLEEP BENEATH THE AZALEA BUSH. Allie stands on the lawn, barefoot, in her nightgown, watching him breathe. His open mouth vibrates. She plucks a flower off the bush, drops it over him, and watches it bounce off his chin and land on his chest. She kicks him. He doesn’t stir.

A breeze lifts Allie’s nightgown, making her shiver. This is the middle of the night, she thinks. She’s never seen the middle of the night. She darts across the moist lawn, quickly, in a rush of glee. She leaps with her arms outstretched. Then she runs in figure eights until she tumbles to the ground and lies on her back, panting. It is so quiet. Every house is dark except for theirs, which is lit from basement to attic. The stars look icy and far away. Lifting her arm, Allie covers a handful of the sky. The phone rings and she runs inside.

“Hello,” she says.

“You sound little,” the voice says.

“I’m not.”

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