"Think what you want. Only get out," I said sharply.
"There are lots of girls who wouldn't throw me out of their bedrooms." he bragged, his ego bruised.
"Good. Go to them," I said.
I hated being this mean. but I had to. I told myself. I had to be meaner still.
"You're too young for me," I continued. "And you're still a boy. The years between us don't even begin to suggest the differences. I'm worlds older than you and I don't want any relationships. I told you that. I don't know what gave you the idea we could be lovers,"
"Me neither." he said angrily.
"So then, go to sleep. Let me sleep." I cried.
In the darkness he couldn't see the tears streaming down my cheeks. If he had, he would not have understood what really poured them over my lids.
"Sure. Go back to England,'" he said. "You'll be sorry. I sure had you pegged wrong."
"That's right," I said. You pegged me wrong." I covered my face with my hands.
He stood there staring at me for a few moments and then he left my bedroom, slamming the door closed behind him.
"Oh Mother," I cried. "you don't know how much pain you continue to put into your own children."
I fell back to the pillow and turned to smother my tears in it. I couldn't fall back to sleep. About twenty or so minutes later. I heard Brady stomp past my room.
"Have a good life," he cried and pounded down the stairs.
"Brody!" I shouted.
I got up and charged after him. The front door slammed shut as I hurried down the stairs. By the time I got outside, he was in his car, revving it up angrily. He spun it around, the tires squealing, and shot down the driveway.
"Brody!" I called after him, running down the steps.
A few seconds later, the taillights of his car disappeared in the darkness
He was gone.
5
Unburied Sins
.
It was a nightmare so powerful it became real.
People are afraid of their dreams, not because they will toss and turn in their sleep and wake up sweating, even crying. No, they are afraid of their dreams because they believe their dreams might be
predictions, turning their imaginings into terrible prophesies.
I didn't fall back to sleep for hours after Brody had left in that wild, angry rage. When I finally did. I saw those two red taillights growing in my mind, first into furious eyes and then merging into one large ball of fire that exploded along with the ringing of the telephone, raining down hot embers out of a thunderous, black sky above me.
After waking to the phone's ringing. I felt my heart pounding like a tom-tom, stealing my breath and filling my lungs with vibrations that reverberated down my spine to the ends of my feet. The phone rang and rang. I sat up, turned and lifted the receiver.
"Hello," I said. Silence, deep and ominous followed without anyone speaking. "Brody? Is that you?"
I heard a great, deep groan. "Brody?" "He's dead!" she screamed. It was the most
chilling scream I had ever heard, piercing my heart, slicing it to the point where it stopped and then starred. Every part of me wanted to pull away, explode like the light in my nightmare and send my arms and my legs, my head and my feet and my hands in different directions.
"He's dead!" My stomach twisted. I felt my throat close as my blood drained down my body. I could barely hold the phone. It seemed to gain mare weight every passing second.
"What? Mother? Who's dead? What are you saying?"
"Grant just phoned me from the scene of the accident. He sounded like a dead man himself. I didn't recognize his voice. I kept asking, Grant, is that you? Finally, he just screamed at me, screamed that Brady was gone. WHAT DID YOU DO!" she shouted so loud herself that my ear rang.
"Brody? What happened? He can't be dead," I barely uttered.
"I don't know. I don't know. They said he lost control at a turn an hour from my mother's house, went off the road and hit a tree. Why was he driving home so late? I thought he was going to stay over, if not with you, then with Victoria. What happened? What did you do? What did you tell him?"
A terrible shivering began in my body. My bones were rattling, my teeth chattering.
"I told him we couldn't be lovers. He wanted that and I had to be hard and mean to him to stop him."
"Oh God," she said. "It's my fault. All this is my fault,"
I didn't say no. I couldn't make excuses for her because in my heart and soul I believed she was responsible. Not being sympathetic with her had an unexpected result. however. She suddenly turned any at me.
"Couldn't you make something up, string him along so he didn't get so upset? Why did you do this so late at night and send him out like that? Why did he stay there if he told Victoria he wasn't going to stay? Did you encourage him? You did, didn't you? You're getting even with me, is that it?"
"Of course not."
"Why did he leave like that then? Why didn't you stop him?"
"What did you want me to tell him. Mother? Should I have been the one to tell him the truth because you didn't have the courage? This isn't my fault!"
"You could have been less mean, maybe," she moaned. "Why didn't you just ignore him?"
"He came to me in the middle of the night, Mother. He came to my bedroom naked. He wanted to have sex with me."
"Stop it! You're making this up. Stop it!"
"He wanted me to be his girlfriend. He said he was deeply in love with me and that no matter what anyone thought, he would still love me."
"I won't listen to this. Brody's dead. My son... Grant will hate me," she said in a mad loud whisper. "He'll blame me. They'll all blame me. Do you understand what's happened?"
"I'm sorry," I said, through my tears. "I wanted him to be my brother. I wanted him to be my friend."
"Was he drinking? Did you and he drink my mother's liquor? You had a wild party! That's why he tried to make love to you."
"Mother, nothing like that happened. He brought some beer, but he wasn't drunk when he left," I said.
"He brought beer," she muttered as if she had discovered the real murderer. "Grant will want to know. He brought beer." I could envision her maddened, her eyes wide,
"He drank it at dinner, hours and hours before he left. Mother."
"Well then, maybe this is all a mistake," she said in a much lighter, more hopeful voice. "Maybe Grant's confused. It's another young man in a similar car. I'll call him back on his car phone. That might be true."
"I don't think so," I said softly.
"Alison's still asleep. She'll be destroyed. They argued like any brother and sister all the time, but she loved him and he loved her. He's going to be a lawyer like Grant, you know," she said, her voice changing, sounding younger, even childish. She fluttered a thin laugh. "He'll be a great lawyer. Everyone says so. He's articulate, bright and he makes a very impressive appearance. You should see him in his tuxedo. Juries will fall over themselves trying to satisfy him.
"Grant says the same thing," she continued, following it with another little laugh. "He's not dead," she said through her tears. "God wouldn't take him now. It's a mistake. Grant was just overwhelmed with the sight of this terrible accident. He called too quickly. He'll call back any moment and say, Megan. Megan. I made a big mistake."
I didn't reply. Brody had been killed. Suddenly, I couldn't breathe. My chest froze, my lungs locked. I was getting dizzy.
"I don't feel Good. Mother. I can't talk anymore."
"What? Hello? Mother." she said.
"What? What did you say?"
"MOTHER!" she screamed.
I dropped the receiver and grabbed my stomach. Just before everything in it came rushing up and out. I made it to the bathroom and fell to my knees. I vomited and vomited into the toilet until I was in terrific pain. Then I fell on my side and lay there on the cold bathroom floor. I brought my knees up tight against my stomach, and in moments I was asleep.
.
With the pho
ne off the cradle, no one could call me. Bad news was electric, even from great distances. Jake heard the horrible news from Victoria, who informed him she had tried to call me and was told by the operator that the line was not working. He drove up to the house quickly and rang the bell. When I didn't respond, he got the spare key hidden in the garage and let himself in. I didn't hear him calling my name downstairs, but moments later, he came charging up and discovered me on the bathroom floor.
"Rain!" he cried shaking me.
I opened my eyes. The lids felt like they were made of iron. My eyeballs ached.
"What happened?" he asked. "Whaaa.. ."
I looked around, confused, forgetting why I was in the bathroom.
"Victoria called. Brody was killed last night in a car accident. Do you know about that?"
I closed my eyes again-- closed them hard and wished that this wasn't happening. that Jake wasn't here, that when I opened them again I'd be in bed, and that it was all just a nightmare. I'll be forever grateful. I thought. I'll do anything God wants me to do.
"Rain," Jake pursued. "What exactly happened here? Why are you on the floor in the bathroom with the phone off the hook?"
I groaned and sat up slowly. He went to soak a wash cloth and then he put it against my forehead. I held it there myself.
"I feel so sick," I said.
"Can you stand up?" he asked.
"I don't know," I said.
He helped me to my feet and guided me back to the bed. When I was lying down with the blanket around me. I looked up at him and told him my mother had called, Yes. I know it all. Then I started to cry, but no tears came. All I could do was shake. My well of sorrow had run dry for now.
"He must have been going like a bat out of hell," Take said. "The car is totaled, squashed like a smashed pumpkin. He wasn't wearing his seat belt either, so he got thrown and slammed. They think he died immediately. They hope," he added. "Maybe I should have hung around after I saw he had come. huh?"
Everyone was looking to share the blame, I thought. "It wouldn't have mattered. Jake."
"Did you two have a fight or something?" he asked and I told him what had happened. I spoke slowly, like someone in a trance. He just listened and then slowly shook his head.
"You can't blame yourself for this. Rain"' he said. "You did the right thing. They had no right leaving the burden on your shoulders. Don't you go blaming yourself, Rain. Hear me?"
"Yes, Jake."
"I gotta call Victoria and tell her the house isn't on fire or anything. I'll make you some tea. okay?"
"That's a switch," I said laughing. It wasn't really a laugh. It was a different sort of cry, a sob disguised. 'Someone making me tea. I'm a MIF," I called after him.
He stuck his head back in the door. "Pardon?"
"Milk in first." I said.
"Oh. Right,' he said and I laughed again and again until I was gasping with those dry sobs. I finally ran out of energy even for that and lay still, staring up at the ceiling.
"Mama," I whispered. "Still thinkI'm going to bring good luck? Still think you should have named me Rain for good things, for blossoming and growing goad things?"
I'm a mistake. I thought. I was created in error and my whole life is just a mistake.
Jake practically spoon fed me the tea. My body didn't want to cooperate. It didn't want to be a body anymore. It wanted to disappear and the best way to do that was to stop eating and drinking and caring, but Jake was persistent.
"You're not going to do this. Rain," he said. "You're not going to fall apart now. This family, for better or worst, needs strength, not weakness around it. No one is going to blame you. No one who knows the truth is going to hold you responsible for any thing,"
"Except me," I said.
"What could you do? Submit. pretend? You wouldn't have had any easier time living with yourself. I want you to get yourself up, get showered and dressed. Victoria will be here this afternoon and you'll have to deal with everything that's coming."
He looked around.
"This was Frances's room. Just think about your Grandmother Hudson. Imagine what she would want you to do and do it," he urged.
"I'm tired. Jake."
"You're far too young to be tired," he replied. "Me. I can say that. Not you. You've got too much living to do.
"MIF," he said smiling and shaking his head. "Some MIF."
He got up from the bed and took the empty teacup with him.
"I'll be downstairs, waiting for you," he said. "I'm hungry and I expect you are too. Let's make us both something to eat."
I watched him leave and then I glanced at Grandmother Hudson's picture on the dresser, the one where she was standing by the lake pointing to something and smiling. I could almost hear her say, "Jake's right. Get a hold of yourself and help me deal with my ridiculous family.
"Remember what I told you about self-pity. Remember that now, more than ever."
I lifted myself out of bed, my body running on reflex and memory alone. I did what Jake had told me to do. I showered and dressed and went downstairs to make us something to eat. I prepared some tomato soup and toasted cheese sandwiches. I was surprised I was able to hold any of it down, but I did. Jake and I sat at the kitchen table and talked softly about what had happened.
Before we finished. Victoria charged into the house, her eyes full of shock, anger and confusion. She glanced sharply at Jake, who rose to put his dishes in the sink.
"I'll be out front if you need me," he said, more or less to both of us.
"What happened. Rain?" Victoria demanded after he walked out. "I can't make any sense out of what Megan is saying and by now, she's probably sedated. Grant won't come to the phone. They tell me he's beside himself, locked in his office,"
I stared at the floor. No matter what had been done to me and what this family would like to do to me now. I couldn't stand hearing about their terrible burden of sadness. It brought back vivid memories of Mama after Beneatha's violent murder.
"Grant is destroyed," Victoria declared, sitting at the table. "I don't know if he'll be able to come back to himself. Megan will be of no help. She's worse than a lead weight around his ankle now,"
I lifted my head and looked at her. She was and at me not because of what had happened to Brody, but because of how it affected Grant.
"I didn't do anything deliberately to harm him," I began. I told her how Brody had been so insistent about having dinner with me. I told her about his expressions of love for me and how it was getting far too serious and I had to do something to end it.
"And you never told him who you really are?"
"Maybe I should have. Maybe he would have been calmer and understood and not been in such a rage against me. but I was frightened. I didn't want to cause any more trouble."
She stared at me a moment and then nodded.
"It's not your fault," she said with surprising firmness. "It's been Megan's fault from day one. And my parents' fault for always making excuses for her, doing things to cover up her mistakes, permitting her to live in a rose-colored world.
"If she did poorly in school, they blamed it on the teachers or the subject. If she spent money unwisely, it was because someone scammed her. Always the victim. Poor Megan this. poor Megan that.
"Grant shouldn't have been so understanding once the truth about you was out," she continued, talking mostly to herself now. "She plays that game all too well, getting people to feel sorrier for her all the time. Men are so weak when it comes to someone like Megan. My father was blind and stupid whenever he looked at her, listened to her, saw the things she had done. She's a snake charmer.
"Grant is in a different situation," she said, catching herself. her eyes nearly clicking with the change in her tone of voice. "He was trapped this time. Of course, he couldn't just heave her out and let the world know what he had married. He has a great future. I understand that. You compromise to get what you want. That's good business sense.
"Grant has wonderful business sen
se. He admires that in me, too, you know. I can tell,"
She pressed her thin lips together firmly and nodded.
"I've got to go to him to see what I can do to help him. My sister won't be able to help him one iota. She'll play the role of a tragic woman so no one dares blame her for any of this."
She fixed her eyes on me, the pupils smaller, her eyelids trembling with her fury. "But you and I know the truth, don't we? One day, we'll force her to face it.
"All right," she said standing. "don't do anything or say anything about this to anyone. I'll be in touch.
"As you can see," she said smiling coolly, "I'm really the only one you can trust in this family."
Before I could say anything, she pivoted on her heels like some marionette and marched out of the house to carry out her self- imposed mission.
My God, I thought, she's actually happy. She's going to use me as a wedge to drive my mother and Grant further and further apart, believing he will just spin around and fall gratefully into her waiting arms.
I got up slowly and followed her out to tell her I wouldn't be part of any plan to destroy my mother, but she was already gone, her car's engine a distant hum. Jake crossed the driveway..
"What'd she say?" he asked.
I looked at him.
"You're wrong. Jake," I told him.
"About what?"
"There's no way she could be your daughter."
.
Except for Aunt Victoria calling to tell me she had taken charge of the arrangements for Brody's funeral. I didn't hear from anyone over the next few days. Every day I expected my mother might call and babble incoherently, moving from self- blame to accusations. I was afraid of the phone ringing.
"It's lucky I decided to come here to help." Aunt Victoria told me. "Grant is still not in any condition to help himself and Megan is practically comatose most of the time. She's milking this for all it's worth."
"I doubt a mother losing her son would be milking for sympathy. Aunt Victoria," I told her.
"You don't know her like I know her. I can see that Grant is disgusted with her. He hasn't said anything to anyone, but when I talk to him. I see it in his eyes,
"We're going to have the funeral at their local church and Brody will be buried in the Hudsons' portion of the cemetery. My mother would want that, don't you agree?" she asked.