Secrets in the Attic

just wanted to be sure you and I were together before

  she left us. She cared about you."

  His hands were under Karen's skirt. He lifted it

  a bit and looked.

  "Wearing your bikini panties?" he asked,

  continuing to explore with his fingers. "I guess she

  was telling the truth. You guys did share everything " "Wait," I said, pushing on his chest. I moved

  enough to the right to get out from under him and pull

  myself back into a sitting position.

  "What?"

  "Why did you say your bikini panties?" "Because they're yours, right? What's the difference?" he asked, moving toward me again and bringing his lips to my neck. "I've got what we need. I

  know you are concerned about it. Let's get into the

  backseat. C'mon. You said you didn't have much

  time."

  This wasn't right. None of this felt right, and it

  wasn't because I was frightened or because I believed

  virginity was something to save. Karen couldn't accuse me of having those reasons to be reluctant. I

  didn't like the way he was rushing us, acting as if I

  had come solely for one purpose. It made me feel

  cheap and him a hypocrite. He wasn't with me

  because he felt I was special. He was with me because

  he believed I was easy.

  "No, Dana," I said. "Just take me back to the

  post office now."

  "What? Why?" he whined. "We've only been

  gone a few minutes."

  "Just take me back," I said.

  "I don't get it. I'm not good enough for you or

  something? Why did you change your mind?" "Please, just take me back."

  He sat back and slapped the steering wheel in

  frustration, so hard it made me wince.

  "There are words for girls like you," he said. "I don't need to hear them. Let's just go back,

  Dana. Please."

  He didn't start the car. He turned to me again

  and just stared. I could see his eyes in the moonlight.

  They looked like two small balls of fire.

  "So, why did you meet me, huh? Why did you

  tell Karen I was the best-looking boy in school, your

  dream lover? Why did you get me to come to

  Sandburg, anyway? What is this, some kind of game

  you two play?" he asked, raising his voice with each

  question.

  "I didn't get you to come here. You said you

  were going to be here and told me if I didn't show up I

  was square."

  "Because Karen told me you would meet me,

  that you wanted to meet me. Did you or didn't you?

  Well? Why would she lie about it? And you put on

  your famous red bikini panties," he added. "Why?" I bit down on my lower lip. What could I say?

  They're not mine? I was still wearing them, wasn't I?

  And Karen's skirt, too.

  I started to cry. I couldn't help it.

  "Cut out the act," he snapped.

  "I'm not acting."

  "You want to know something? I think you're

  sick. You're both sick. What was it she would tell the

  other girls, that you're spiritual sisters? You're sisters,

  all right, but it's not spiritual. It's weirdness that makes

  you sisters. I guess she got some kind of perverted

  kick getting me all lathered up about you, making you

  sound like you were more sophisticated and even I

  would learn new things, things I never imagined in

  my best fantasy."

  "What did she say?"

  "Forget about all that. You know when a girl

  meets a guy like this, it's as good as making a

  promise. It's an unwritten agreement, a contract. Your

  father's a lawyer. You should know that."

  "What?"

  "What, what, what are you, a light bulb?" he

  cried, and then just threw open his door and got out. My heart was thumping. He was really in a

  rage. Should I just get out and walk away or maybe

  run away? We hadn't traveled that far, but it was far

  enough to take me some time to get back to my bike

  and then home. My father was surely going to be back

  home by then.

  "Dana!" I called, but I didn't see him I turned

  and looked back and then in front of the car. Where

  was he? What was he doing?

  Suddenly, the passenger side door was jerked

  open, and there he was, but my heart stopped and

  seemed to drop to my stomach. He was standing there,

  naked from the waist down, and in the moonlight, I

  could see he had put on his protection. I was so

  stunned that I couldn't move. He reached in and pulled

  me out. I screamed, but he opened the rear door and

  forced me back into the car, lying over me quickly

  and forcing me back against the seat. There was no

  room to maneuver.

  "Let's get those red panties off once and for

  all," he muttered.

  I pushed at his shoulders, but his body was too

  heavy. His hands were on my thighs, tugging at my

  waist until he had the panties down below my knees. "Stop!" I screamed. "Please don't do this, Dana.

  Please," I begged.

  He grunted with the effort to have his way.

  What once had the potential to be romantic and

  beautiful had turned into something bestial and ugly.

  This wasn't going to be a memory to call up in our old

  age, as Karen had promised. It was going to be a

  memory to bury and struggle forever to forget. How

  could I stop it?

  I don't know where the words came from, but I

  dipped deeply into some treasured place and drew

  them up. I spoke calmly, so calmly I even surprised

  myself, because the calmness gave what I said more

  authority and strength.

  "You don't want to do this. You don't want to

  be this kind of person, Dana. It will haunt you the rest

  of your life. You won't be proud of yourself. You'll

  hate yourself, and you'll think of it every time you're

  with another girl, even the girl you eventually love

  and marry. I'm a virgin!" I moaned. "Karen didn't tell

  you the truth about me."

  I felt his body soften and his grip on me loosen,

  but he kept the side of his head against mine and

  fought to slow his breathing. After another moment, he rose and backed out of the car. He slammed the door closed. I fixed my clothing and sat back to catch

  my own breath. Would he return, or was this over? I heard him come around to the driver's side

  and open the door. He got in and started the engine.

  He didn't say anything, and neither did I. I just sat

  there until he pulled around and drove out to the road

  and back to the village, stopping at the post office. "I don't know where she is," he said, without

  looking back at me. "But you tell her if she calls me

  again, I'll go to the police. And don't you talk to me or

  even look at me in school. I want to pretend this never

  happened, understand?"

  "Not any more than I do," I said.

  I got out, and he pulled away quickly, his tires

  squealing as he rounded the turn in the center of the

  village and then disappeared. I got on my bike and

  started for home.

  And I cried all the way.

  15 Harry Pearsons at Heart

  As I approached the house, I saw it was dimly lit, just
as I had left it, which meant my father was not home yet. My legs were tight from my frantic pedaling, and my heart felt as if it were flopping about madly under my breast. I had to stop and just stand a moment to catch my breath. I suddenly noticed all the stars and the moon. It had been as if I had ridden with blinders on, my head down, fleeing from the disaster with Dana. I didn't know how I had made it home without going off the road. I took some more deep breaths and then walked my bike up the driveway and pulled up the garage door.

  After I put on the garage lights, I stowed my bike and closed the garage door behind me. I was happy my father was not home yet, because I knew I looked a mess, and there was just no way to avoid some kind of explosion if he ever found out what had just happened to me. I entered the house, half expecting to see Karen standing there anxiously waiting to greet me. She wasn't, and it was quiet, so quiet that for a moment I wondered if she had gone off again to stay in Harry's mother's apartment or someplace else.

  I glanced at my watch. I had been gone a little less than an hour. There was probably still plenty of time before my father would be home. I started up the attic stairway and slowly opened the door. Of course, it was pitch dark; but the moonlight was still bright enough to illuminate the large room and at least silhouette most of the furniture.

  "Karen?" I called in a loud whisper.

  "Back so soon?" I heard her respond.

  At first, I didn't see her, so I opened the door a

  little wider to let in more light and saw her lying on the sofa, naked.

  "What are you doing?" I asked.

  She sat up and brushed back her hair. "I was just thinking about you, imagining what you were doing, trying to feel what you were feeling."

  "Oh?" How odd, I thought.

  "Don't sound so surprised. It helped me pass the time. But why are you back already?"

  She reached for her clothes and quickly started to dress.

  "It was terrible," I said. "It wasn't the way you thought it would be."

  She stopped dressing. "Why? What happened?"

  "He tried to rape me," I said, my chin

  quivering.

  "What? Why? Why would he have to do that? What did you do?" she asked, sounding as if she were accusing me, as if it had to be my fault.

  "It wasn't what I did," I said. "It's what he did!"

  "Tell me everything. Start at the beginning, and don't leave out a syllable," she said, patting the sofa. I sat, and she finished dressing.

  "Well?" she said when I hesitated.

  I took a deep breath and began. "I biked to the post office and got into his car. We drove off, and he pulled into a driveway not far away, where he said his cousin was building a house for someone. There was a house being built, but I have no way of knowing if his cousin is involved."

  "Oh, c'mon, Zipporah. I don't need those kinds of details. Stop babbling like an idiot. What did he say to you? What did he do?"

  "I can't help it. I'm still shaking," I said. My tears felt hot as they ran down my cheeks.

  She put her aim around me. "Okay, okay. Relax. You're here now, safe with me in our nest. Take a deep breath, and tell me exactly what happened."

  "He started to talk about you and me and compared me to other girls at school, just as you said he would, complimenting me, saying how sincere a person I was. What a good friend. Reliable."

  "Good. So?"

  "But then he suggested I had been with other boys."

  "Other boys?"

  "Lots of other boys!"

  "Pretending he knew you weren't such a goodygoody and therefore you shouldn't be one with him," she said, nodding. "Another male trick. I call it setting the sexual table for their feast."

  "He said you told him I was the school's biggest well-kept secret."

  "He said I did? What a liar."

  "Then he saw the red bikini panties and talked about how we shared everything He said you told him they were mine "

  "Another lie. He probably thought he was stroking your ego or something"

  "I started to get a bad feeling. Everything was moving so fast. There was nothing romantic about it. The moon could have been behind a wall of clouds. He was the one who demanded we go into the backseat."

  "He got ahead of you. I was afraid of that. What did you do?"

  "I wasn't comfortable with him anymore. I told him to take me back, and he became very angry and said you and I were just weird. He didn't call me any names, but I knew he thought I was just a tease."

  "That's just his way of dealing with rejection. Any girl who doesn't just roll over for a boy is a tease in their eyes," she said.

  "He said you had told him I was so sexually sophisticated I could teach him things."

  "Exaggeration, exaggeration, exaggeration. In his dreams, maybe. Of course, I made you sound desirable, but he filled in the blanks himself. That's what boys do, Zipporah, fantasize. But you said he tried to rape you."

  "He got out of the car, furious. I was going to get out, too, and just run back to the post office, when he opened the door on my side. He was standing there naked from the waist down."

  "Really? What happened then?"

  "He pulled me out and shoved me into the rear. He was on me before I could resist, and then he practically ripped off the panties."

  "And?"

  "And then I stopped him."

  "How?"

  "I told him he would hate himself forever."

  "That was enough to stop him'"

  "I said a little more and added I was a virgin, and he stopped, got dressed, took me back, and told me to tell you that if you ever call him again, he'll go to the police."

  "Like I ever would," she said. "Boys and men are all the same. Selfish, wanting to please themselves at any cost. They're all Harry Pearsons at heart."

  "Did you say any of those things about me? Did you tell him I liked him, thought he was the bestlooking boy in school?"

  "Of course, I told him you thought he was good- looking. Which he is, but I never made you out to be some tramp. Why do men try to turn every girl they meet into a tramp? When they get married, they hate the thought of anyone thinking that about their wives. I know Harry hated it, but look what he did with me. I'm sorry things didn't work out the way 1 wanted them to work out for you. It was supposed to be a great experience, so we would have more to share. There'll be other opportunities. Don't worry about it."

  "I'm not worried about that. It was a horrible experience. He was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I can't imagine how you were ever with him."

  "I had the experience to handle him. He didn't dare try anything like that with me. I had him eating out of my hand, anyway. Let's forget about Dana. Let's not even mention his name."

  "I can't just forget about it that easily, Karen. I'm still shaking."

  "Yes, I can see that. I'm sorry," she said, and put her arm around me to hold me again. She kissed me on the forehead the way my mother often did. "Maybe I'll think of a way to get even with him."

  "No. I don't want to have anything more to do with him," I said quickly. "Besides, we have other, more important things to think about now. We shouldn't have spent all this time and energy on Dana Martin, anyway. It was crazy to try to live normally and be like any other girl our age. We're not," I said, feeling the hysteria creeping into my voice. My episode with Dana made me feel as if my bones had been rattled and were still vibrating through my spine and my ribs. Even my legs were still trembling.

  "Yes, yes, you're right. You're always so sensible. We really are like two parts of the same person, me the wild one and you the sensible one. Passion and thought, that's what we are, but without those two, you're not a complete person. What we do is complete each other. That's why we're so close."

  "Maybe," I said, "but I think we should lean more toward thought for now."

  "Exactly."

  We heard the sound of the garage door going up. "My father's back," I said, rising.

  "Get yourself together, Zipporah. Calm yourself
. Wash your face with cold water before greeting him," she advised. "You don't want him to know about Dana. It will just make all that worse and blow everything out of proportion."

  "Everything is out of proportion," I said, with a little more anger and disgust than I had intended. I lowered my head as I walked to the doorway.

  "You want me to leave again? Is that what you're saying? You blame what happened between you and Dana on me, and now you want me to leave? You think I'm getting you deeper and deeper into trouble?'

  "No, no, of course not. I'm sorry. I'm still shaken up, but I'll be all right," I said, and left quickly, hurrying down the short stairway to the bathroom, where I did what she said. I washed my face in cold water, fixed my clothes, and brushed my hair. I heard my father calling to me from below.

  "I'm in the bathroom," I shouted, after opening the door to stick my head out.

  "Okay," he said from the bottom of the stairs. "I'm just checking. Come down when you can," he said. "I need to talk to you."

  I sat on the covered toilet and kept taking deep breaths until I felt I was calm enough to face him.

  "Hey," he said, looking up from where he was sitting in his chair in the living room when I entered. "Is everything all right?"

  "Yes."

  "No one called? I was expecting Jesse to call," he added quickly.

  "No," I said.

  He grimaced and then looked very suspicious. "That's not like him."

  Oh, no, I thought the moment he rose from his chair. He walked past me to the kitchen and went to the phone. I heard him dialing. "Hey, big shot. I thought you were calling to let us know your exact schedule. What do you mean? Zipporah was home."

  I stood there listening to the silence, imagining what my brother was telling him. He must have called while I was in the village meeting Dana. What would

  I say? Making up lies to cover myself did not come easily to me, and I always had this fear that because my father was a trial attorney who was skilled in cross-examining people, he would see through any lie I told.

  "Okay. So, let me get that down for your mother. Sounds good."

  What? Well, it's not easy for her." He listened again. "Couldn't hurt," he added. "Okay. Have a good time. Bye."

  I waited, my heart thumping,

  "That's funny," my father said, returning to the living room. "Jesse said he called about a half hour, forty minutes ago, and you didn't answer."

  "I was up in the attic," I said. "I guess I didn't hear it ring."