The Birth of Bane (19 page)

Read The Birth of Bane Online

Authors: Richard Heredia

Tags: #love, #marriage, #revenge, #ghost, #abuse, #richard, #adultery consequences, #bane

BOOK: The Birth of Bane
13.03Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

When I asked
Myra about it, she said it was normal for kids his age to have an
imaginary friend. She’d been filing her immaculate fingernails, her
legs crossed, thighs bared by a mini-skirt that was just a little
too high.

But, hey, who
was complaining? Me? Hell no!


Did you have
one?” I had asked, thinking she was blowing off the subject as
unimportant.

She never
skipped a beat. “Yeah, but I killed her…” She never even stopped
the back and forth motion of her hand as she formed the nail of the
other.


Why?” I
inquired through an outburst of laughter.


She started
hitting on my boyfriends.” There was a twinkle in her
eye.

I took her in my
arms and forgot what I’d been talking about.

My mother, like
the rest of us, seemed to go from Cloud-9 to the Pearly Gates
themselves. With Lenny gone, she began to have the house fixed-up
with gusto. She completely threw herself into the renovations. By
April, she was putting in as much work as some of the contractors,
working forty to fifty hours a weeks, right alongside the very men
she’d hired to do the work for her. But, that was her to a tee. She
wanted to make sure everything was perfect and she wanted to be
involved every step of the way. This was
her
house, this was
her baby. She was going to rebuild
Her
(we’d been calling the
house a “she” for some time now) exactly the way she
wanted.

First to be
upgraded was the kitchen. It got new appliances, new tile on the
floor and all the cabinetry was refurbished. The paint on them was
painstakingly peeled off and the wood beneath was brought to a full
shine beneath layers of stain and shellac. It came out wonderful.
The hard wood finished went perfect with the rest of the
house.

Following the
kitchen, she had the front porch and the street-facing foundation
replaced, because it was literally falling apart underneath our
feet.

Once that task
was accomplished, she had the roof replaced –
entirely
, all
the way down to the support beams.

Next, all the
existing carpeting on the first floor was pulled up and the hard
wood floors below redone like she’d had done in the kitchen. Then
the downstairs bathroom was entirely upgraded – new fixturing and
plumbing was installed, and a smaller version of the kitchen tile
was set into the floor.

Simultaneously,
she had the sunroom sectioned entirely off of the master suite by
adding thick, opaque glass bricks atop the partition-wall that had
separated the two areas. It had been waist-high, so one could see
into from space from the other. She had effectively made one
sectionalized chamber into two, which was nice. When the setting
rays of the sun filtered through the glass bricks, the effect
within the master bedroom was magnificent. It was like being in the
crystal cave straight out of Arthurian Legend. The streams of
light, the refracted photons, bounced and played across the
surfaces with every step. From each vantage, the room was
illuminated differently. My mother’s eye for detail was
amazing.

She had the deck
resurfaced, then immediately thereafter, had all the wood in the
front room stripped and stained, restored to their original
state.

The grounds of
the property weren’t left undisturbed either. She had new carpeting
and paint for the back house, reinforced the walls of the root
cellar and had all of the structures painted and
weather-coated.

The week the
painters finished was the same week the last of the landscaping was
completed as well. Julio and his colleagues had done a magnificent
job. The front yard, though neat and orderly, didn’t look like it
had been manicured beyond trimming here and there. It was part of
the illusion my mother had been striving for all along. She wanted
the yard to be terraced, have the ability to drain without the loss
of much needed topsoil, and still be appealing. Most of the
retaining walls blended into the curve of the hill itself, so their
impact upon the eye was minimal. She and Julio, and the rest of the
landscapers, had worked tirelessly to make it seem as though a
given plant had sprouted in place, though its’ placement had
nothing to do with the randomness of nature. It just appeared to
look that way.

It was a
masterful job.

I’d been sitting
with Elijah, admiring her work, on the pair of steps leading up to
the patio directly beneath the kitchen windows. He had come to sit
with me after I’d said good-bye to Myra with a long, languorous
kiss. It was the 7
th
of June. My
girlfriend and I had just two weeks left of school and then we’d be
thrown to the wolves of the world.

In reality,
things weren’t as dramatic as that. We were both going to go to
college in Arizona for the fall semester. It was to be the
beginning of our “master plan” together, the one taking us from
high school to college to career to marriage to family and
beyond.

I recall I’d
been mulling over my future, wearing no more than shorts, a tank
and flip-flops – all royal blue. The day had been warm. I’d been
wondering what things would be like being with Myra without the
proximity of parents. We’d both be living on campus our freshman
year, but we had plans to move in together and live off-campus for
the remainder of our college years. I kept running the scenario
through my head. What would be like to have her overnight,
every
night? What would it be like not to have a curfew? What would
it be like to be on our own? Would it be fun the first time we
bought groceries together, did our laundry in the Laundromat
without the guidance of our mothers or had to clean our apartment?
Sure, all of it wasn’t going to happen for some time, but still the
idea of getting my life started was intriguing, and I found I
couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Little Elijah
had come up and plopped himself next to me in his faded overalls,
shirtless against the heat of the day and a pair of Velcro sneakers
on his feet. He was bubbling with nervous energy.

I could tell he
wanted to ask a question. “What’s up, little man?”


Are you happy
Dad’s going to be here in a week?”

Thoughts of the
past intervened with my musings of the days–to-come. “At one time,
Eli, him coming home was a happy time. For me, at least,” I
remedied, reconciling the truth with what I recalled when I was his
age. “Not sure about mom or Valerie. They’ve had it harder when it
comes to him.”

He swallowed it
like he would his cough medicine. He knew it was good for him. It
was just a little hard to relax and let it slide down his throat.
“Why is he so mean?” His voice was hoarse.

Inside, I wanted
to curse and scream at the reality of what our father was truly. I
wanted to explain to Elijah how sick and perverted he was, how
abnormal was his frame of mind. I wanted to explain it to him more
than anything else. Yet, as I sat there looking down at my little
brother, my eyes darting over his broad, young face, none of it
seemed all that important. The need to protect Eli outweighed
anything Lenny had ever done to me a hundredfold. Just him being
there, asking questions made our father irrelevant.


Some people are
made different than others, little man,” I started, squinting down
at him through the near-summer heat of the day. “Len-, I mean, Dad,
is one such person.”

He turned his
head to the side, one eyes shutting as he contemplated what I’d
said.


He probably
doesn’t think he’s being mean. He probably thinks he’s helping,
though in reality he’s hurting everyone around him.” It felt like a
lie passing over my tongue, but it was the simplest way I could
describe it to Elijah. I wanted him to understand, with life, there
are always two sides to every story. Though my mind was telling me
my father’s “side” was too pathetic to mention, my heart was saying
otherwise. How was Elijah going to grow up a healthy adult if I
(we) didn’t raise him properly?

But, Jesus
Christ, Lenny soooo did not deserve the benefit of the
doubt!


Really?” The
concept was hard for him to digest.


Yeah,
really.”


He’s that
stupid?”

I had to laugh.
Sometimes I felt my baby brother was smarter than the lot of us put
together. His ability to cut through the bullshit was
uncanny.

He was grinning
too, but he didn’t let it develop to the next step. “Sometimes, I
wish he would stay away forever.”

His voice was
shaky. The truth of what he felt deep in his heart was difficult to
convey devoid of emotion. Elijah was a good kid. I could tell an
admonition such as this was wearing on him. He said it almost as if
he were confessing, as if it was something he had to get off his
conscience.


You’re not the
only one.”

We stayed silent
for a while, watching the thousands of shades of green, yellow and
brown cavort in the light breeze.

Though I was
counting the days to the beginning of my life, there was another
side of me that was deathly scared. I tried not to think about it
or the guilt I felt every time the notion took root. I wanted to be
free of Lenny more than anything, and yet, if I left, who would
protect Eli? Sure, my mother would do whatever it took to keep him
safe, but if Lenny ever came after Elijah with the intent to hurt
him bad, who could stop him? He’d already threatened to do just
that those months before when I discovered he liked more than just
women.

I could hear the
words as clear as a bell.


Remember, asshole, I don’t have to hurt
you
in order to
hurt you.”

I knew what he
was talking about. I know who he was threatening.

If he wanted to
hurt us all, bad, simultaneously, all he had to do was get a hold
of Elijah. I wanted so much to be excited over the coming months. I
wanted to revel in my upcoming freedom. I wanted to lose myself
with thoughts of Myra and me alone, night after night. But, the
dread had other plans for me. Those joyous thoughts turned
ambiguous. I couldn’t keep a grip on them. They scurried away like
so many roaches. Only disquiet remained – heavy, burdensome
foreboding that wouldn’t go away.

Yeah, the
sonofabitch was
that
kind of coward.

 

~~~~~~~<<<

>>>~~~~~~~

 

Chapter
Twelve: Graduation Present

 

On the evening
of June 25
th
, 1987, nine days
after his return from Canada, Lenny stood up in front of both sides
of the family and all of our friends, and announced he had put the
house on Lincoln Drive up for sale.

“…
So, if any of
you
are interested, feel free to walk
around, check out the place. Our architect has done a wonderful job
of restoring the place. Lord knows, it sure cost enough!” He paused
to laugh at what no one had interpreted as a joke. Maybe it was an
accounting thing. He peered about, his eyes bleary. “Anyway! If any
of you like what our hired help has accomplished here, please come
over and get me. Maybe we can talk business.” He’d uttered these
few semi-drunken sentences standing atop the built-in, wood-bench
at the far end of the living room. His expensive loafers were
digging into the soft cushions my mother had placed there for
sitting.

I couldn’t help
but frown at the thought he might be ruining them, feeling my ire
rise at more than just his uncouth proclamation.

It was during
the height of my graduation party, forty minutes or so after we’d
all eaten. It was supposed to have been the time for speeches
before Myra and I left for the all-night party our friends were
throwing, but Lenny had turned it into something else. He had an
uncanny ability to make those of sternest disposition feel
uncomfortable.

There was an
awkward silence at first. The end of this was punctuated by a
muffled screech from Elijah. He quickly covered his mouth, tears
streaming from his eyes and sprinted through the front door and
onto the porch. It was obvious to me the thought of leaving our new
home was mortifying to him. He’d grown to love the house as much as
my mom. It was precious to him, a part of him like an arm or a leg.
He could live without it. He’d be crippled for life.

My mother’s
glare at Lenny was enough to tell me he hadn’t consulted with her
regarding the sale of the house either. I watched her, and so did
some of the members of our family. The unadulterated hatred in her
gaze made a few of my aunts and cousins gasp for breath. She hadn’t
been the sort of person to express such raw emotion in public. Her
usual method was to clam-up, take what was being doled-out with a
glassy smile that was as transparent as tissue paper. To see
unbridled fury was on par with her stripping down and running
around naked. It was unimaginable. Pillar was suddenly defiant,
angry? Since when had she grown a backbone?

I felt a tab bit
miffed at the shocked casts of their faces, though I know, on some
level, they were justified. Lenny had bullied and brow-beat my
mother for so many years, we were all used to seeing her act in a
specific manner. Maybe we even expected it now. I knew this
intrinsically. I did, and yet… to witness abject surprise at her
furious reaction was aggravating.

Other books

Vampalicious! by Sienna Mercer
The Power of Forgetting by Byster, Mike
The Trail Back by Ashley Malkin
My Fair Princess by Vanessa Kelly
Black Angels???Red Blood by Steven McCarthy
R.E.M.: The Hidden World by Corrie Fischer
One Good Friend Deserves Another by Lisa Verge Higgins
Down Here by Andrew Vachss