Cutler 05 - Darkest Hour

releasing me. "Go get the towel."
    I hurried to the bathroom and returned with the towel. Papa had poured himself another glass of whiskey and was sipping it as I brought the towel to his shoulders. I felt his eyes move with me every time I turned or reached. I dried him as quickly as I could, but when I started on his legs, I tried not to look as I worked.
    Suddenly, he laughed in a strange way.
    "Scares you, don't it?" he said, and laughed again. I was afraid the whiskey had stirred up the monsters once more.
    "No, Papa."
    "Sure it does," he said. "A grown man is scary to a young girl." Then he grew serious, seized my wrist and pulled me so close to him, I felt his hot breath on my face. "When a man is aroused, Lillian, he gets bigger, but a grown woman is pleased about that, not scared. You'll see; you'll understand," he predicted. "All right, enough about it," he added quickly. "Just get on with what you're doing."
    I finished wiping his feet and then I folded the towel and helped him put on his nightshirt. After I pulled up his blanket, I brought the basin, sponge and towel into the bathroom. My heart was still pounding. I couldn't wait to leave the room. Papa was behaving in such a bizarre way. His eyes washed over my body as if I were the one naked and not he. But when I returned from the bathroom, he looked his old self again and he. asked me to read him a Bible selection.
    "Read until I fall asleep and then make yourself your bed there," he said, nodding at the settee. "Put on your nightgown and get some sleep, too."
    "Yes, Papa.” I sat beside the bed and began to read The Book of Job. As I read, I saw that Papa's eyelids grew heavier and heavier until he could keep them open no longer and he drifted to sleep. When he began to snore, I closed the Bible softly and went back to my room to get my nightgown.
    The whole house was quiet by now, quiet and dark. I wondered what Mamma was doing. How I wished she was well enough to take care of Papa. I listened by her door, but I heard nothing. On my way back to Papa's room, I saw Emily standing just inside her doorway gazing out at me.
    "Where are you going with your nightgown?" she demanded.
    "Papa wants me to sleep on the settee in his room in case he needs something during the night," I explained.
    She didn't respond. Instead, she closed her door.
    I reentered Papa's room. He was still asleep so I moved about as quietly as I could. I got into my nightgown, made my bed, whispered my prayers, and went to sleep myself. Hours later, Papa woke me.
    "Lillian," he called. "Get over here. I'm cold."
    "Cold, Papa?" I didn't think it was very cold. "Do you want another blanket?"
    "No," he said. "Get in here beside me," he said. "All I need is the warmth from your young body." "What? What do you mean, Papa?"
    "It ain't so unusual, Lillian. Why my grandfather used to have young slave girls keeping him warm. He called them bed warmers. Come on," he urged, lifting his blanket. "Just lay up against me," he said.
    Hesitantly, my heart pounding, I sat on the bed beside him.
    "Hurry up," he cried. "I'm letting out what warmth there is under this blanket."
    I stretched out my legs and, with my back to him, slipped under the blanket. Instantly, Papa pulled me closer. For a few moments, we lay there that way, me with my eyes open wide, him breathing heavy and hot over my neck. I smelled the odor of stale whiskey on his breath and my stomach churned.
    "I should have waited for Violet," he whispered. "She was far more beautiful than Georgia and with a man like me, she wouldn't have gotten into trouble. Your real father was too soft, too young and too weak," he muttered.
    I didn't move; I didn't say a word. Suddenly, I felt Papa's hand slip under my nightgown and rest on my thigh. His thick fingers squeezed my leg gently and his arm began to move up higher, taking my nightgown up with it.
    "Got to keep warm," Papa muttered in my ear. "Just lay still. That's a girl, that's a good girl."
    Terrified, my heart skipping beats, I brought my hand to my mouth and smothered a cry when Papa's hand reached my breast. He cupped it greedily and with his other hand, he lifted my nightgown over my waist. I felt his knees press under mine and then his hardness reached me and pushed forward. I started to pull away, but his arm tightened around my body, pulling me closer and closer to him.
    "Warm," he repeated. "Got to keep warm, that's all."
    But that wasn't all. I squeezed my eyelids shut as tightly