Stealing Flowers (19 page)

“It’s okay, Sal,” I said. I felt the top of
my nose and the skin had been scraped off. “Go get some bandages
and Ozonol,” I said.

Sally rushed away. The interlocked brick lay
several feet before the smooth patio stones around the pool and was
quite rough. I had been a fool to be running in that area without
shoes. I stood up and could walk. Relief washed over me. A broken
toe would have killed the summer. I knew the chlorine in the
pool-water would be better than anything else for my wounds, so I
dove in. It stung badly, and what was worse, I knew I had to
briskly rubbed all my scraped areas to get the dirt out. The
abrasion on the tip of my nose was agony to rub.

I crawled out of the pool and lied on the
edge, facing the sun, dizzy and feeling like I might faint. Sally
came over with towels and rubbed the cream on my sores, kissing me
on the lips when she was done. I kissed her back and soon I was
excited. Slipping the bottom of her bathing suit off, we began
making out. Even though Una had warned us that any such provocative
behavior would change everything if we were caught, I
wholeheartedly joined in the recklessness. When Sally lay back, I
took off my trunks. Blood from my face dripped on her small breasts
and it got spread around with my hands. It felt good to be out of
the sun and making love. Sally’s screams seemed to come to my ears
from far away. I looked up and literally jumped off her in front of
Aunt Gayle’s eyes. With me being excited and my cuts and scrapes
bleeding, I can only imagine what she thought, but the look she
gave, sent a shiver through me that I will remember clearly for the
rest of my life. It was a look of pure hate. Every time I had to
see her, I’d to live through that memory. I covered myself with my
hands and jumped into the pool so that my privates were out of her
vision. I scrambled and put on my trunks. I was one day from
finishing building my fridge and I wondered now if I would ever
complete it, if I’d be kicked out of the family. Sally had her swim
suit back on.

“Aunt Gayle, what are you doing here?” she
asked.

I could tell Sally was furious. “Are you all
right?” Gayle asked as though with great concern. “Did he rape
you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“There’s blood on you, dear.”

This I saw made Sally even angrier. “Why
don’t you mind your own business,” she said, “you should have rang
the doorbell or even phoned first. Do you think you can just walk
right in here?”

Gayle backtracked into the house. Sally dove
into the pool, and when she surfaced, she hugged me, her body
trembling. Gayle came back out to the edge of the pool and looked
at us as one might of the condemned, her liquid eyes swimming in
pleasure. “I told her not to marry a nonbeliever,” she whispered.
“There’s the doorbell. That will be the police.”

Never was I more sure that our pure and
innocent romantic love lay in ruins. “You’ve called the police?” I
asked in shock, grabbing Sally’s hand and racing out of the pool.
“You fool.”

“Where are we going?” Sally gasped as we
raced past Gayle into the house.

“Upstairs to get dressed and to phone Stan,”
I said loud enough for Gayle to hear. I knew I should phone Una and
ask for advice, but there was no time and it wouldn’t have made any
difference. I changed and phoned. Isaac answered.

“Get my dad,” I said in a rush, while
dressing.

“Your father is on his way home.”

Forgetting my manners, I slammed the phone
down. “Damn!” I thought of running away and escaping what I had to
face, but Sally returned from her room shaking in fear, dressed in
jeans and a t-shirt.

“I hate her,” she whispered.

I phoned the operator and gave her Una’s
Jamaican number, but no one answered. I realized that this was the
moment Satan had chosen to attack and they had picked it carefully.
“Let’s leave,” I suggested.

“Dad would be even more angry.”

A tap on the door stopped her in mid
sentence. “What?” I called.

“It’s the police,” a sharp male voice
said.

“Come in,” I said and held Sally’s hand. The
door opened and two male officers walked into the room. They were
both large young men. The largest one had his hat in hand and with
his brush-cut and several red pimples on his face and head, he
looked almost cruel, but his eyes were neutral, maybe even
kind.

The other officer had wavy brown hair and he
clearly looked annoyed, but his eyes weren’t judgmental either, but
rather diverted by his assessment of us. I saw he was changing his
mind even as he approached us and that they were both unhappy about
being here, that it was an unpleasant task. Aunt Gayle stood out in
the hall, her eyes still not able to conceal her pleasure.

“What’s happened here?” the second officer
asked.

I was anxious to answer his first question
coherently, but I may have mumbled slightly. “We’ve done nothing
wrong.”

“How old are you?”

“Fourteen,” I said.

He looked at Sally.

“And you, dear?”

“Fourteen.”

“Did your brother do anything to you
unwanted?”

“No, my aunt did,” Sally said, “she’s a
bitch.”

The first officer suppressed a smile with a
cough, but his eyes told me that our trouble wasn’t over.

“She reported a rape,” his partner
continued. “In cases involving incest.”

“Incest?” I said. “Who told you that?”

“Are you not brother and sister?”

Sally said yes and I answered no, and then I
clarified it.

“Are you familiar with statutory rape?” he
went on.

“My dad will be home in a moment,” Sally
pleaded. “Can’t you wait?”

I saw that she was going to cry. “Why don’t
we move out of the bedroom downstairs?” the larger officer with the
shaved head said. His eyes were now focused and bright. I knew he’d
assessed the situation and decided no crime had been committed. By
the time we had reached the front hall, the mansion had receded in
my mind and had become unreal. If other matters were discussed, I
tuned them out.

When I saw Stan’s face, tears sprung from my
eyes. In that instant, I thought he was gone from me forever, but
to my endless amazement, he came over and hugged us both. He took
the officers into the kitchen with Aunt Gayle, and what was said,
I’ve no idea. However when they came out, I could see from Gayle’s
face that she had been defeated, and with it, the forces of Satan.
She left the mansion, and to my knowledge, never came back. Our
troubles, however, were just beginning.

The officer had gleaned a promise from Stan
to get us both separate counseling from New Jersey Juvenile Aid. To
this effect, Mr. Drury’s office, my former truant-officer, had been
contacted and he’d agreed to directly help. This seemed to satisfy
them enough that they made a report and left. My next focus was
saving my relationship with Mary. She was arriving at La Guardia
tonight, and without Una here, I didn’t know how it would go. Mary
might blame Una for the whole matter. Everyone had long discerned
that Una knew everything about the family, so how could she have
not known this, and if she knew, why hadn’t she discussed it with
Mary, or forbid it with us? Her position in the family might now be
in jeopardy.

Mary might try to take her natural daughter
away from me. I didn’t really think this would happen, but it was a
possibility. We didn’t go with Stan to pick up Mary.

“What will happen to us?” Sally asked the
first time we were alone.

I hugged her and we began to kiss. We made
love for the very last time. I’ll never forget it and was glad that
it happened, but it was one of the saddest things I ever recall
from that time. Just like Sally, I could feel the mark had been put
upon us and the burden would be greater every time we touched.

“Your right eye is turning black,” Sally
said, tenderly kissing my wounds. I left to shower, and looking at
my reflection, I could see that indeed I was getting a black eye.
Once again in the mirror, I was a stranger to myself. Mary’s
arrival came in with a flurry. She burst into my room as I read,
Innovative Drilling Practices, then she forestalled what she was
going to say, to examine my face.

“How long has this been going on?” she
asked, her voice hiding her contained fury and saying nothing about
my black eye.

Stan stood behind her, two paces, and Sally
straggled into the room. “From the first night that you took me
home,” I answered without hesitation. “I slept with Sally that
night and most every other night since.”

This stunned her and she sat on the edge of
my bed. “For heaven sakes,” she said softly. She studied her hands
and looked slowly over at Sally. “Did he ever hurt you?” she asked.
Sally shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. “Does Una know
about this?” she asked further of me.

I looked at Sally, who told me with her
eyes, to deny it. “I don’t know,” I said.

For what must have been five whole minutes,
all four of us stood or sat in complete silence, then Mary spoke
again. “A parent’s job is to protect their children,” she said in
an even softer voice, “but I don’t know what to do. This can’t go
on. I can see that you love each other, but it’s impossible, just
impossible. It’s your duty upheld by law to obey us and incest is a
crime in all societies.”

“But, mom, we aren’t brother and sister by
blood,” I said.

She rose and came nose to nose with me. “You
can’t use us as your family just when it pleases you,” she said
crossly, “and cast us aside when you want sex. You’re our son,
legally, morally, every way. Children of ordinary understanding
know that they must obey their parents. I forbid you to sleep with
Sally anymore. She is your sister, no more, no less. She can’t be
your girlfriend. You must find another girl, just as she must find
a boyfriend. I know that the moral and intellectual maturity of a
fourteen-year-old approaches that of a adult, but that’s all the
more reason to listen to us.”

“We love one another,” Sally said, crying
aloud.

“When you’re fourteen, you love yourself.
You make each other feel good. How do you know love? Love is
sacrifice not self-gratification, and you don’t learn it until
later, if you learn it at all. Now let me restate what I said, I
forbid you to be with each other intimately ever again.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned
and left with Sally. I acutely felt the need for Una’s council, but
I saw I was going to be left with Stan’s. “I fell in love with a
girl when I was your age,” he said kindly. “It was different back
then. All you could do was kiss a girl. I guess when you’re an
orphan you learn everything fast.”

For the second time that day, he hugged me,
and this time I hugged him back. “I’m so sorry to cause you this
embarrassment,” I whispered.

“I think Mary’s a little embarrassed, but
not me. Life is full of trouble, Christian. I’ve seen so much
suffering and death, especially in the camps, that you sleeping
with Sally is but a small infraction, a tiny complication in life,
and easily fixed. You weren’t a direct blood-brother to her and you
didn’t force yourself onto her. I love you no less for it, but you
need to understand, it can’t go on. Remember the shoplifting? It’s
like that. Once you were caught, the only clear choice was the one
you made back then: Don’t do it again. I know it’s harder this
time, but between Mr. Drury and myself, we’ll help you through it.
Remember, son, because of Gayle Harris, it’s a legal process as
well, so the less they know, the better for all of us. You can be
honest with Mr. Drury, but discreet as well. Do you understand?” I
nodded, thinking that so far, Stan’s advice was excellent. “Una’s a
funny duck not to have warned you of the consequences of letting
someone like Aunt Gayle see you two together,” he continued.

“She did warn us,” I said before I stopped
to think.

“She knew after all?” he asked. “We’ll just
keep that between us two for now. How’s the refrigerator
going?”

“I need to attach the installation and coils
on the back and plug it in. If it doesn’t work, I’ll just die.”

“You might have to start working Saturdays
to keep yourself busy.”

I didn’t know what he meant by this. “What I
need is more money so I can start going out.”

“You’re a bit young to be hitting the bars
because of a broken heart,” he said with a light grin.

I looked straight at him and forced out a
smile. “When you adopted me, I was already working for people who
owned bars. Besides, I don’t drink. I meant rock concerts.”

If he was shocked at my words, he kept it
off his face. “I’ll see what we can do about the money. You can’t
go by yourself though. Perhaps Lloyd will take you to a few. If
they aren’t too loud, I’ll go with you myself.” I nodded. “Are you
hungry?” he asked. Again I nodded. “Come on,” he added. “I will fry
us up some sausage.”

I didn’t really feel like sausage, but I
nodded for the third time. The next morning, we went to church.
Sally and I were separated by Stan and Mary. I remember Father
Mackay’s sermon. “The origin of sin,” he said in his clear vibrant
voice, “and the reason for its existence, are a source of
perplexity. Many see the work of evil with it’s terrible results
and wonder how all this suffering can exist under the reign of one
who is infinite in wisdom.” I wondered that exact thing myself.
“However, such a thing,” he continued, “is elementary to
understand. If we are to be free, truly free, then evil must exist.
After all, our choices have to be real. We must be free to choose
evil as well as good, or what is the benefit in choice at all? As
for what background we choose against, a code of law exists. The
Almighty has given to us the guidance of scripture. The Bible sets
out the rules. If they seem to you as though natural laws, that
impression is not without foundation.