I stared at Billy in helpless horror, knowing Daddy would whup my ass so badly I probably wouldn’t sit down for a week.
“It was an accident,” Billy said.
“Did youdo it?” Daddy demanded, turning his angry stare on Billy.
“I didn’t mean to, Daddy!” Billy exclaimed fearfully.
And just like that, Billy took responsibility for what I’d done—and, Jesus, what a price he paid. Daddy grabbed an extension cord, gathered it up to make a belt, forced Billy to drop his drawers, and beat him to within an inch of his life. It went on so long I finally broke down and tried to help him. I grabbed the cord, hoping to make Daddy stop. Instead he lashed out at me with it, and we both wound up getting a whipping until Mama screamed so much that Daddy stopped. At that point, Billy had blood on his buttocks and legs, and I was crying so badly I couldn’t breathe. Billy got far worse than I did that day, and I had never understood why he’d taken my punishment when he knew how bad it would be.