second time. I can’t recall the
details of it, because now it’s
muddled with all the other times
that came after it. I do remember
that the police were called. They
came out to the house this time, but
again it was like a boys’ club. “Hey,
guys. These women, you know how
they are.” No report was made. No
charges were filed.
Whenever he’d hit her or come
after me, my mom would find me
crying afterward and take me aside.
She’d give me the same talk every
time.
“Pray for Abel,” she’d say.
“Because he doesn’t hate us. He