The Vigilante Life of Scott McKenzie

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Ten-year-old Scott McKenzie put his arm around his little sister Cheryl. They were hunkered down in the closet of Scott’s room in their home in Middle Falls, Oregon. Even hidden away, the sounds of the fight in the living room still echoed loudly in their ears. His closet had been their sanctuary for the endless series of fights his parents had.

This particular set-to had started like many before it. It had begun with their father coming home late and drunk. It escalated from accusations of infidelity to the sounds of slapping, punching, and furniture being knocked over.

Scott held Cheryl’s face in his hands, willing her to meet his eyes. “What do mares eat?”

“Oats,” the little girl said, a waver in her voice.

“And what about does?”

“Oats.”

“And how about little lambs?”

“Little lambs eat ivy.”

“A kid’ll eat ivy, too. Wouldn’t you?”

Scott had used this game to distract Cheryl from the terrible happenings in their home on dozens of occasions, but tonight, Mairzy Doats wasn’t doing the trick. She did her best to look at Scott, but her eyes continually darted to the slats in the closet door. He felt her tremble under his protective arm.

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