Secret Brother (19 page)

“Never think I might forget you. Never,” I said. I touched the marker with his name, and then I stood up, took a breath, and walked slowly back to Aaron's car. I saw a crow fly over it and then past me. I turned as it flew lower and landed on Willie's marker.

He has a pet
, I thought.
That will make him happy.

Aaron didn't say anything after I got in. He started the car, and we drove out slowly. He didn't speak until we were back on the street and heading to my grandfather's estate.

“You want to do something this afternoon?” he asked.

“Like what?”

“Sort of a picnic. I thought we might drive out to Three Wrens Lake and go rowing. We can get some sandwiches and sodas at the shop on the lake.”

“Okay,” I said. “The less time I have to spend in my house, the better.”

“You want to go back to change or something?”

“I'm good. Just go,” I said. He turned to me, looking surprised. “My grandfather will figure it out,” I said. “Or not.”

Three Wrens Lake was a good hour's ride south.
I knew Aaron was desperate to get me talking about anything except what was happening in my home and what had happened to Willie. He tried one subject after another, talking about school, his classes, our teachers, and his plans for college next year. He was hoping to be accepted at the College of William & Mary in Williamsburg. His father was an alumnus and made significant contributions, so he had a pretty good chance of that happening. Baseball was his sport, and William & Mary had a good team.

“My father wants me to major in economics,” he told me. He talked almost continuously for the first half hour of our trip. I wasn't talking, because I was having trouble getting the sight of Willie's grave out of my head. “He's always telling me I don't sing and I don't dance, so I'd better have a good head on my shoulders for business.”

He paused, waiting for me to say something. I didn't know what to say. I didn't think I'd had one thought about my future for weeks. “That's nice” sounded stupid, so I just kept silent.

“You ever go rowing on Three Wrens Lake?” he asked, trying a new topic.

“No.” I thought about it. “I don't remember ever going rowing, actually.”

“Really? Great. I'll teach you how, and then I'll lie back and let you row us for hours.”

It was like a small crack in the ice. I smiled and sat back, a little more relaxed.

As the day continued, the clouds were swept out of the sky, and it grew warmer than I had expected.
It was obvious that Aaron had been to the lake many times. The clerk at the shop even recognized him. He ordered our sandwiches, some potato chips, and sodas, and then we went down to the dock to rent a rowboat. Three Wrens Lake was a little more than two miles long and a mile wide. There were light motorboats on it and dozens of people in rowboats and small sailboats. The man renting the boat insisted that we put on the life jackets provided. Aaron got us off with graceful and rhythmic rowing. His obvious effort to impress me was working.

“Dad bought me a rowing machine for our little basement gym,” he said. “Makes me a stronger hitter. I had four home runs last year. Did you know that?”

“No. I didn't go to any games.”

“You will this year, or else,” he said, and I laughed. I could feel my body loosening up. I closed my eyes and bathed my face in the sun. Then I undid my hair and shook it before I reached over the edge of the boat to feel the cool water.

“I see little fish,” I said.

“Let me know if you see any sharks.”

“What?”

He laughed. “You want to try this?”

“Sure.”

Carefully, I moved to the seat. He put the oars in my hands, showing me how to hold them. He sat right behind me, his arms against mine, and began to show me how to lift and pull the oars, how to turn the boat, and how to avoid splashing. “You're doing well,” he said, but he didn't move away. He pressed his lips to
my neck and then gently moved them along with small kisses.

“I can't concentrate on my rowing.”

He laughed and sat back.

I was really enjoying it now and feeling like I was accomplishing something. A motorboat came a little too close, the waves in its wake bouncing us about. I screeched with delight.

“You should rest,” he said. “You'll get blisters on those dainty palms of yours.”

I paused and looked at my hands. They were red.

“Let's just drift for a while,” he suggested.

He came forward and lifted the oars out of the water, resting them on the sides of the boat. Then he lowered himself to the floor of the boat and urged me to do the same, with my upper body against him. It was peaceful and warm, mesmerizing. The sounds of other people laughing and shouting floated gently over the lake, and the engines of motorboats droned softly around us. A very pretty little sailboat passed by, the man and the woman waving. I closed my eyes again. Aaron moved his fingers over my face to my lips. Then he slipped down beside me, and we embraced and kissed.

“Feeling better?” he asked. I was, but I didn't want to say it. He could tell. “Don't feel guilty for feeling better, Clara Sue. Surely no one wants that.”

I nodded. He was right. It just wasn't easy.

“I know what could really make you feel better,” he said. He was moving his hands under my skirt.

“People can see us,” I protested.

“Not really. Besides, making love on the water adds something. You know, the bobbing and all.”

Casanova raises his head again
, I thought, and squirmed away. “Let's get back to what we came here for,” I said.

“I was.” He smiled. “All right, all right.”

He rowed again. We talked about other lakes he had been to and then about some other things we might do when our Christmas holiday began. His family wasn't going to travel this year, because his sister was coming home again, although there was a chance they would go to New York City to see a show. I told him about my uncle Bobby's show, and he said he would go to New York to see it with me. It seemed like we could make an endless list of promises and plans. He was even thinking ahead to when he went to college. William & Mary wasn't far away. He would come home on weekends to see me so we'd never break up.

Is any of this real?
I wondered.

Our rowing and the clear, crisp air made us hungry. We gobbled up everything he had bought. Nearly three hours later, we turned the boat around and began to return to the dock. I told him it was the best day I'd had since Willie's death.

“We'll just have to pile on some more,” he said. “What say we go for pizza and a movie? We'll be home by six. I'll drop you off to change and go home to change and come back. Think you can?”

“Yes,” I said.

But that was before I entered the house nine hours
after I had left without telling anyone about anything I was doing.

Grandpa must have been watching the front gate. When we drove up, he stepped out of the house onto the portico and stood there with his steely arms folded, his hands tucked in under his arms, which was his usual posture when he was very, very annoyed. Except for his hoisted shoulders, his body was so straight and tense that he looked like a statue someone had just left there with the words “Angry Grandpa” carved into the base. As we drew closer, I could see how deep the lines in his face were. They seemed to be drawn on with a black crayon.

“Uh-oh,” Aaron said. “He doesn't look happy.”

I wanted to be as defiant as ever, but there was something so new and fierce about Grandpa's look of anger that I could feel my spine twinge and my confidence wither. In seconds, I was a little girl again, the very thought of challenging one of the adults in my life terrifying. My mind began to weave and spin excuses.

When Aaron didn't get out of the car to open my door, I felt his fear, which only put the icing on mine. I got out slowly.

“Should I say hello?” Aaron asked.

“Not right now. Just drive extra slowly out of here and call me later tonight,” I told him, and closed the door. He looked relieved.

I turned to face Grandpa Arnold, taking a few steps toward him. When he spoke, I stopped.

“You don't even call to let anyone know where you are for more than nine hours,” he began.

“We went for a picnic on Three Wrens Lake.”

“Telling me a little late, aren't you? I've already spoken with Aaron's father. For your information, he was just as upset about it.”

It was unrealistic to expect that was it. I walked forward and stopped just in front of him.

“I've put up with a lot because you're hurting, but that doesn't mean you can be irresponsible and disrespectful, Clara Sue. I'm your guardian. I love you, but I won't put up with this sort of behavior. You go to your room, and you think about it. For now, you're to go to and from school with Bill. Don't make any plans for any weekend activities until I say so. You can invite your girlfriend or girlfriends over, but that's it until you demonstrate you're responsible enough for anything more.” He opened the front door and stood back.

“That's not fair,” I said.

“That's what it is,” he replied. He didn't even sound like my grandfather. The sternness in his voice and the firm way he held his posture quickly subdued any other comment I could think to make.

I walked in quickly and paused when I saw Myra standing there beside My Faith.

“You had us very worried,” Myra said.

“Oh, child,” My Faith said, shaking her head.

“I'm not a child!” I cried, and ran up the stairs.

I paused at Willie's doorway. Mrs. Camden was pushing the boy out in his wheelchair. The sight of him sitting up, his golden hair brushed neatly, startled me. I quickly recognized Willie's shirt and pants. I
glanced down at his shoes and socks and then looked up at her.

“He's the same shoe size?” I asked. To me, it was the most astounding thing.

“Yes,” she said.

I looked at the boy. His face seemed fuller, his cheeks rosier than ever. The blue in his eyes was the most exquisite blue I had ever seen. It was as if his body was emerging from the depth of his great pain and sorrow stronger than it had been. He started to smile at me. Nothing I had done or said apparently frightened or discouraged him. He smiled like a little brother might at the appearance of his sister, waiting for some kind or friendly remark.

“No!” I cried, and ran to my room.

When I shut the door behind me, it felt as if I had lowered the lid on my own coffin. I flopped onto my bed, the tears rushing out of my eyes as if they'd been shut up for weeks and weeks and could finally break free.

“Willie,” I whispered. “Willie.”

I rose and went to my desk, quickly pulling out my stationery and peeling a sheet off the top. It was going to be a short letter.

Dear Willie,

I hate Grandpa. I want to run away, only I have no place to go, and I hate the idea of never going to your grave.

I won't talk to anyone in this house. No one is on my side.

Clara Sue

I folded it and put it in the envelope and in the drawer. Then I took a deep breath and went into my bathroom to take a shower and disguise my tears with the water that ran down my face.

No one would see me cry.

Especially my grandfather.

13

When I didn't go down to dinner, Myra came up to see me. I was lying on my bed, staring furiously at the ceiling.

“Everyone's at the table,” she said. “We're waiting for you, Clara Sue.”

“I'm not hungry,” I replied without looking at her.

“Now, you know this is not the way to behave, love.”

I didn't answer or move.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. You and your granddad are two peas in a pod. I don't know who can be more stubborn. You know he's not happy punishing you.”

I turned to her. I could feel the heat in my eyes spreading through my face. “I don't know what makes my grandfather happy or unhappy anymore. And I don't care.” Before she could reply, I turned over on my bed and looked at the wall.

“No one is terribly happy in this house right now, Clara Sue.”

“He is,” I muttered, loudly enough for her to hear.

“Who?”

“That boy my grandfather wants us all to call William.”

“I don't know how happy he is. For him, a smile is like a drop of rain in a drought right now,” she said. “I think he has some time to go before we can say he's happy. He's at the table tonight,” she added.

I spun around again. “In whose seat?”

“Well, he's in the wheelchair, Clara Sue.”

“At whose place, then?”

“He's beside Mrs. Camden,” she said.

“That's where Willie would sit.”

“She needs to be beside him for now. Did you want him beside you?”

I turned around again, giving her my back instead of a reply. I knew she was standing there, staring at me and trying to come up with something that would please me, but I was even angrier now.

“I'll send something up if you don't come down,” she said, and left.

When the phone rang, I debated answering it, but then I thought it was probably Aaron. Unfortunately for me, it was Lila. I was definitely not in the mood for what she wanted to talk about.

“I've been calling you all day. I kept getting your answering machine, so I didn't leave any more messages. Didn't you see I called? Where were you all day?”

“I was with Aaron,” I said. “I haven't bothered looking at my answering machine.”

“All day?”

“Most of my waking hours, yes.”

“What did you do?”

“I went to the cemetery in the morning, and then we drove up to Three Wrens Lake to row and have a picnic. Now you know it all.”

“Not all, I'm sure.” She giggled. “You had lots of fun last night.”

“When I left, you looked like you had too much,” I said.

“I had a headache until an hour ago, but I didn't throw up,” she added quickly, “and my mother didn't realize a thing. She waited up for me. My father never does.”

“Good for you.”

“But anyway, there's a reason I've been trying to call you all day.”

“What?”

“Audrey and Sandra Roth inspected her bed right after you two left. Then Sandra spread the story around the party that you were definitely not a virgin before you went up to her room with Aaron last night.”

“Maybe we didn't go all the way.”

“Really? Everyone says Aaron Podwell wouldn't give a girl ten minutes of his time if she didn't go all the way. Some people at the party have been telling everyone what Sandra said today. Sara Combes was the first to call and tell me that she had heard about it, and you know what a big mouth she has. I thought you should know what they're saying to everyone.”

“Sick if that's the way they get their jollies. Both of them but especially Sandra,” I said.

“They all keep asking me as if I know all your secrets, like who was the first time, where did it happen, stuff like that. I'm getting calls all day, but they don't believe me when I tell them I don't know.” She sounded like she was really fishing for information. Did she think I was lying about Aaron and me, or did she wish it was true so she could enjoy the details?

“It's a terrible responsibility to put on your shoulders. I'm sorry for you,” I said.

“No, I didn't mean . . .”

“Look, I have to go, Lila. I'll see you Monday.”

“Monday? What are you doing tonight? Going out again with Aaron?”

“No. I have to do some ironing,” I said. I wasn't interested in telling her all about my grandfather and how angry he was. She would find out soon enough.

“What? Ironing?”

“I'll see you Monday,” I repeated.

“I could come by tomorrow.”

“I have too much to do. 'Bye,” I said, before she could ask another thing, and practically slammed the receiver onto the cradle.

Her phone call only heightened the flame of rage burning inside me. I was being accused and tried in gossip court, and I hadn't even enjoyed the fruits of my supposed fall from innocence. The things that were being said about Aaron didn't surprise me. I had heard them, but I was hoping that they were embellishments of fantasies other girls had about him,
especially Sandra Roth. But I couldn't deny that I liked the fact that besides being handsome, charming, and bright, he was also considered dangerous to girls. Going on a date with him had the added excitement that came from going too fast or drinking too much alcohol. How quickly my reputation had been challenged. I should have been angrier.

I was tired of pouting about what was happening to me at home, but I wasn't in the mood to do homework or read and especially not to go downstairs to watch television. Besides, I couldn't get the things Lila had said out of my mind. As if he could hear my thoughts, Aaron finally called.

“How bad was it for you?” he asked as soon as I said hello.

“I'm grounded until further notice, so doing anything tonight is out. You can't pick me up for school and take me home, either. I have to go with the limousine driver.”

“My father won't let me use the car for a week, anyway. I have to hitch a ride with Paulie Richards. He lives just down the street from me. My father and his father play bridge together. He's always trying to get me to be friends with him. He still plays with an Erector Set. That's the only erection he's ever known.”

I smiled and fell back onto the bed with the phone pressed to my ear. It felt like a lifeline. In this house, I was drowning in wave after wave of pity, sorrow, and anger. I wanted Aaron to do something magical and pull me right out of it.

“Why was your father so mad at you?” I asked.
“Were you supposed to tell him where you were going, too?”

“A little of that, but I think it was more your grandfather raking him over the coals for permitting his son to go off with a girl only sixteen without permission. Can you grow older faster?”

“How I wish.”

“Grounded. How hard is it to sneak into your house?”

I laughed. “It's easier for me to sneak out.”

“Would you?”

“We'll see,” I said. “I was thinking of going on a hunger strike.”

“Somehow I don't think that would impress your grandfather. He's a tough cookie. He'd have you force-fed or something.”

“I know. I guess if I have to, I'll trade.”

“Trade? Trade what?”

“Being friendly.”

“Friendly?” I could practically hear him thinking. “To the poisoned boy?”

“If there's no other way.”

He was quiet a moment. “You'd do that for me?”

“For us,” I said. “I'm involved in this, too.”

“I'm sorry I got you in trouble,” he said. “My father and your grandfather are right, you know. I should have made sure you checked in and got permission first. In two weeks, I could go to prison if I took you over the state line or somewhere else we almost went last night, since you're officially a minor.”

“Your eighteenth birthday is in two weeks?”

“Yes. So maybe my father will ease up in less than a week. I'll play on my mother's sympathy. Have to get you out from house arrest before then so you can help me celebrate. I've been planning it since I was five.”

“I will, no matter what,” I vowed.

“No matter what?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm. Can I count on an extra-special birthday present?”

“We'll see.”

He laughed.

Actually, I thought, in the back of my mind, I was always planning that I wouldn't lose my virginity until I was eighteen. Somehow, no matter how immature we were, we would be considered adults at eighteen.

“Sorry I got you in trouble. I mean, you have enough going on.”

“You didn't kidnap me. It was just as much my fault. Stop thinking that way.” I thought for a moment and then asked, “What are you going to do tomorrow?”

“Dream of you all day, what else?”

“You know that children's playground not too far from my grandfather's estate?”

“Yes. So?”

“I'll ride my bike there at two. Can you get there?”

“Swings or seesaw?”

“Sliding pond,” I said, smiling, “and then merry-go-round.”

He laughed. “I'll be there even if I have to walk. You've given me reason to undo the hangman's knot.”

“Don't even joke about it.” There was a big story about a teenage boy who had hung himself in his room after his girlfriend of three years broke up with him.

“Okay. Till then.”

“Till then,” I said.

I did feel a little better after I hung up. I looked at the plate of food again and began to nibble on it. After I finished what I wanted, I picked it up and started to bring it down to the kitchen. I looked into Willie's room on the way and saw that no one was in there. As I passed Grandpa's office, I heard voices and paused to look in. He was showing some of his plaques and pictures to the boy and Mrs. Camden. The boy was in his wheelchair. The boy was sitting up in his chair and listening attentively, but he didn't say anything. Grandpa's voice was colored with the pride he had from knowing and meeting the powerful politicians who had posed for pictures with him. I wondered what he would say when he reached the picture of Willie and me, but when he noticed me standing there watching, I quickly walked away.

As if I had caught them doing something wrong, Mrs. Camden followed me into the kitchen to explain. Myra and My Faith were sitting at the kitchen table, enjoying some of Myra's imported British tea. Myra smiled when she saw that I had eaten most of the food. We all turned when Mrs. Camden stepped in, too.

She looked at everyone when she spoke, but I knew it was mostly for my benefit. “Dr. Patrick thinks it will be very helpful for William to get a sense of the
Arnold family, the warmth in this home. It will help build his confidence.”

“William,” I said disdainfully, and looked at Myra especially. “Are you calling him William, too?”

“We're all just trying to do what we can to help him recuperate, love.” She smiled. “My granddad used to say, ‘Call me what you want, but don't call me late for dinner.' ”

My Faith laughed, and Mrs. Camden smiled and said, “Wise advice.”

“Did you ever ask him if his real name was Mickey?” I demanded.

“Mickey?” My Faith said.

“She never told you two? I heard him say it when he was having a dream.”

“I discussed it with Dr. Patrick,” Mrs. Camden said. “He doesn't react well to the name. Whoever it is revives very bad memories for him. It's definitely not his name, Clara Sue.”

“William's definitely not his name, either,” I said, and put the dish on the counter so hard that I almost broke it.

“Well, please don't refer to him as the poisoned boy, Clara Sue. If and when he hears that, it'll just reinforce the terrible things done to him.”

“We never called Willie William very much,” Myra said. “It's almost like a different name.”

“Not to me,” I said. “His teachers called him William, and I heard Grandpa call him that many times.”

They were all quiet.

I stood there for a moment, thinking, and then
turned to Mrs. Camden and asked, “What did he do when my grandfather showed him pictures of Willie and me?”

“He became very sad. We could see it, so your grandfather quickly moved on to other pictures and his trophies.”

“Didn't he say anything?”

“No.”

“Don't you think it's weird that he still won't talk much after all this time, even when you're being so nice to him?”

“There have been cases of prisoners of war who didn't speak for months and months after they were freed. It takes a lot of tender loving care.”

“Yes, I know. Like easing him into a warm bath,” I said disdainfully.

Both Myra and My Faith scowled. I didn't care. Maybe they would stop talking about him in front of me.

“We're thinking of taking him for a ride tomorrow,” Mrs. Camden said. “Dr. Patrick thinks it would be a very good thing. New scenery might revive his memory. Would you be interested in going?”