He wore a light blue sweater and jeans and was alone. He stood so still, with not a strand of his long light brown hair fluttering in the soft breeze. For a moment, I thought he might be an illusion, wishful thinking that had materialized. Then he started toward the house, and I debated rushing inside and closing the door or stepping off the porch and chasing him away. He paused, perhaps seeing the panic in my face.
“You all right?”
“Yes. You just shocked me,” I said.
“I’m a shocking guy.” He stood there smiling. “I thought the rain kept you from going into the woods and decided to look for you.”
“Why?”
“Why? Maybe I need an artist. Maybe I just wanted to see you again. Maybe I’m a serial killer. Which one do you think?”
“Serial killer,” I said, and he laughed.
“There, you do have a sense of humor. It’s a little hidden but still there.”
Did I? I wondered. Laughter was an infrequent visitor to my grandparents’ house. Whenever it did occur, I first questioned what I had heard. Had it happened? Was my grandmother actually laughing at something? When I saw her laughing, I saw how it changed her face, softened her eyes, relaxed her lips, and made her look younger. It was as if she could ride on the back of a laugh and return to happier days. There was magic in that, I thought, so yes, I wanted to have a sense of humor very much.
“It’s not that wet, you know, and the day’s turned out to be very nice,” he said, holding his arms up as though he could catch the sun’s rays in the palms of his hands. “Can you come out to play?”
“Play?”
“Ding. Joke,” he said. “Remember that sense of humor.” He shook his head at my dumb expression but kept the soft smile on his face. The sunlight highlighted the soft blue in his eyes. “Claudine said she thought you were too serious. She has all sorts of theories about it and is as interested in you as I am. Well, maybe not as much.”
“She met me for only a few minutes and concluded I was too serious?” That sounded like a doctor looking at someone and saying, “You have pneumonia.”
“Don’t worry about it. A few hours with us, and you’ll change completely,” he said.
Would I? What if I did? Wouldn’t that be dangerous? Wouldn’t Grandmother Myra see that immediately, too, and question why?
“C’mon. Let’s take a little walk, unless you want to invite me to sit with you on your back porch and watch you draw. Maybe you’ll draw me this time. I can sit very quietly if I have to.”
“No,” I said a little too quickly.
“I’m not that bad-looking.”
“No, I mean I’ll take a walk.”
I looked back at the house fearfully, as if I thought it would report everything to my grandmother, and then I stepped off the porch and walked to him slowly, taking great care to avoid any puddles.
“I can stay out only a half hour,” I said. “I have chores.”
“Chores?”
“Things to do to help make dinner.”
“Oh. You’re a cook, too?”
“I can make things, but my grandmother mainly does the cooking.”
He looked back at the house. “How long have your grandparents lived here?”
“Years and years.”
“It looks like one of the much older houses. Are they still working?”
“No. He had a mattress factory and sold it to retire.”
“Did you work there?”
“No,” I said, laughing. “I wasn’t old enough before he retired.”
“So they’re no spring chickens,” he said, still looking at the house.
“No what?”
“Young. They’re not young grandparents. My grandparents are only in their sixties. My father’s father still works in the law firm part-time.”
“Oh.”
“So what happened to your parents?” he asked.
“I don’t like to talk about it,” I said.
“Sorry.” He looked down quickly.
“Where’s Claudine?” I asked.
That brought a smile back to his face. “She is wrapped up in her karaoke.”
“Her what?”
“Karaoke. We have one of those machines. You know,” he said when I didn’t show any recognition, “where you sing along? You have a microphone and act like you’re really the main singer. You never did karaoke?”
I shook my head. I could just imagine his reaction if I told him I didn’t even have a CD player or a radio.
“You’ll have to come over to try it,” he said. “Sure you can only stay out a half hour? It’s early.”
“I have other things to do in the house.”
“You’re not an indentured servant, are you?”
“What? Oh. How could I be?”
“Just kidding.”
I looked down at my shoes. The wet grass had stained them a little. If I could get to dry ground, I might be all right, I thought. He saw my concern.
“We could go around front and walk on the road. It’s dry. If you follow the street for another mile or so and turn right, you come to our summer home. I could show you the way.”
“No, I don’t have time for that,” I said.
He shrugged and then nodded at my pad, again pressed against my breasts like a book of secrets. “Let’s see some of your drawings.”
“I only just started one,” I said. “Yesterday.”
“Of us in the raw? Was Claudine right?”
“No,” I said quickly.
He laughed. “What, then?”
I slowly opened the pad and showed him the doe.
“This is pretty good. You going to paint it?”
“I think so. My grandfather wants to buy me watercolors, brushes, and an easel.”
“You don’t have any of that stuff yet?”
I shook my head. “They just found out that I like to draw.”
He stared at me a moment, a small smile on his lips and brightness in his eyes. I had to look away. His gaze was doing all sorts of things inside me that made me blush.
“Just found out? What, were you doing it in secret or something?”
“Something.”
He smiled. “You’re really quite a surprise to me, too,” he said.
“Isn’t that good?”
He stared at me a moment and then laughed. “I think Claudine has underestimated you. She thinks that just because you’re being homeschooled, you’re not very smart, but I think she’s wrong. How can you be homeschooled now? Who’s homeschooling you?”
“My grandmother was a teacher,” I said.
“Aha. I knew it. It’s like continuous home tutoring, not that I would want that. Don’t you want to go to a school where you’re with other kids your age? Being homeschooled makes it hard for you to have friends, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Why do they want you to be homeschooled so long?”
“They wanted to avoid any trouble,” I said.
“From what?”
I stopped walking. Surprised, he stopped and looked at me.
“From everything,” I said. How could I tell him that my grandmother once believed that if I was permitted to attend public school, I would corrupt other little girls and bring disdain and blame on them?
“Everything?” He thought a moment. “Something terrible happened to you or your parents, and that’s made them cautious?”
I shook my head.
“Well, what are they, crazy paranoids?”
I knew that word from my vocabulary list and had thought that about them myself often, but it wasn’t something I dared even suggest. “I’ve got to get back. Sorry,” I added, and turned around.
“Hey.”
I paused to look back at him.
“It’s supposed to be really nice tomorrow. Come to where you were yesterday by the lake, and I’ll pick you up and give you a rowboat ride, okay? Can you be there?”
“Maybe.”
“When?”
“After lunch.”
“When’s that?”
“Two o’clock.” I didn’t want to explain about cleaning up before I could go out.
“Long lunch. I’ll be there waiting for you,” he said.
I didn’t say anything. Better not promise him, I thought, even though the whole idea excited me. I walked back to the house carefully. My shoes were still stained by the wet grass. After I stepped up onto the back porch, I turned and saw that he was still there, smiling.
“Be there or be square!” he shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth.
I hurried inside, afraid that he would stay there too long and my grandparents would return and see him. Luckily, they weren’t here when he came. My grandmother would have heard him for sure.
Once inside, I caught my breath and then pulled off my shoes quickly. Just wiping them wasn’t going to be enough, so I threw them into the clothes dryer. It worked, and I slipped them on just minutes before I heard my grandfather turn into the driveway. I went out to help them carry in the groceries.
Grandmother Myra looked me over. I could see she was anticipating some evidence of my disobeying her and walking off the back porch. Finding none, she nodded her approval at me.
“Turning out to be a nice day,” Grandfather Prescott said. “Looks good for tomorrow.”
I smiled to myself as I carried in two bags and helped my grandmother put everything away. While we worked, she went on and on about a girl they had seen at the supermarket.
“Not a day older than you, I imagine, and with a ring in her nose! Where are her parents? Do you see why I’m nervous about you attending a public school? It’s like the end of the world out there.”
“Did you add anything to your drawing?” my grandfather asked, coming into the kitchen to get her off the subject, I imagine.
“No. It’s harder not being in the woods, where I saw her.”
“Tomorrow, then,” he said. “When you find something good to mine in yourself, something beautiful you feel, you go at it fully. Isn’t that right, Myra?” he said, deliberately, to make her comment. She just grunted, but he smiled and nodded at me.
Whenever I could during dinner preparations, I glanced out the back windows to see if Mason had returned. I feared that he would think he could come knocking on our door to see me again so he could be sure I would show up tomorrow at the lake. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to tell him he should never do that. It would either drive him away, because he would think I didn’t want him to, or cause him to see me as so strange that he’d better stay away.
Later, after dinner and cleanup, my grandparents wanted me to sit with them in the living room. I knew this meant something serious was going to be discussed. It usually turned out to be one of my grandmother’s lectures about the immoral behavior young people committed these days. I anticipated that, especially fresh off seeing the girl with the ring in her nose. The way she talked about what she witnessed “out there” when she did go shopping made it seem as if there was a time once, probably when she was my age, when the devil was close to going bankrupt. People were so much better behaved.
“While we drove to and from the supermarket, your grandfather and I talked more about your attending a public school now,” my grandmother began. “I’m going to speak with the administrators first myself, and then, if I’m satisfied, we’ll talk more seriously about it.”
“Don’t worry. She’ll be satisfied,” my grandfather assured me. “She’ll get them to make promises in blood.”
She gave him one of her sharp glares, but he just held his smile. Then she turned back to me. “Your grandfather insists you’ll need some new clothes, so we’ll do some shopping soon to buy you what’s appropriate. After that, we’ll talk about how you should conduct yourself. In the beginning, I don’t want you getting involved in after-school activities. You’ll attend, do your work, and come right home.”
“It’s like getting into a hot bath,” my grandfather said, smiling.
“No, it’s like navigating through a swamp of poisonous snakes,” she corrected. “Anyway, for now, that’s our decision.”
“So you’re sending me to public school?”
“That’s what I’ve been saying, missy. You’re not going to turn stupid on me all of a sudden.”
“No, Grandmother. I was just . . . just wanted to be sure.”
“The first weeks will be a test, of course. Do you understand?”
“Yes. I’ll do the best I can, Grandmother.”
“You’ll do better than that,” she insisted. “Your mother used to wail that she was doing the best she could. I’ll decide if you’re doing the best you can. You can’t decide that for yourself.”
“Your grandmother will see if there is an art class you can take,” Grandfather Prescott said. “How would you like that?”
“Very much. Thank you.”
Grandmother Myra shook her head. “You can go do your work. I want you to be so far above the others when you get there that there’ll be no question you had good preparation at home. You should give your room a good going over, too. It’s been a while,” she said. “Vacuum under the bed.”
“Yes, I will,” I said, and rose. Before I left the room, I turned and said, “I won’t disappoint you. I won’t be my mother.”
Neither replied, but for a moment, I thought they looked as if my words had added years to them instantly. Surprisingly, it made me sad.
Most of my young life, from when I was capable of giving it deep thought, I wondered if I had any affection for my grandparents. From what I had read and seen whenever I did watch television with them, I knew I should feel something more than the fear of disappointing them. The weight of what had happened to my mother and the added burden of caring for a baby, then a little girl, and now a teenager was probably heavy enough for people their age, but the fact that at least half of who I was came from someone brutally evil darkened all these days, months, and years.
Sometimes I hated them for their dreadful expectations. From the moment I took my first breath until now, they, especially my grandmother, were waiting for me to prove that something sinister was inside me. I was told so many times and in so many ways that Satan was just waiting for the right moment that I found myself looking for him, especially when I did gaze at myself in the bathroom mirror. I half-expected he would be standing right behind me, smiling, his long, thin red fingers on my shoulders, burning through my clothes and into my skin.
No matter how they had treated me and how unhappy I was most of the time, I fought hard to find some way to love them. They were all I had as family. I think I worked harder, tried harder, so that I could win their love, just so I could love them in return. Their decision to permit me to attend public school was almost a graduation itself. I had passed some great test in their minds.
The satisfaction and the excitement I felt at this moment seemed suddenly to be in terrible jeopardy. Just when they were showing me how much they trusted me, I was conniving to meet secretly with Mason Spenser, a boy I hardly knew, who wasn’t ashamed about being seen naked. There was no doubt that they would rescind the decision to permit me to attend public school if they found out. Was it worth the risk?
As I left them in the living room, I was thinking it wasn’t and that I would not go to the lake tomorrow. For the rest of the evening, I was in a wrestling match with myself, one part of me still very excited about seeing Mason and learning more about him and his sister and another part of me forbidding it. I worked on my room until I exhausted myself, practically scrubbing every inch of it. Grandmother Myra came to my doorway and watched me for a while and then said I had done enough.
“Go to sleep,” she said. “As I told you, I’m going to visit the school tomorrow to speak with the principal. I want him to understand that you are special.”
What does that mean? I wondered. Would she tell him how I came to be? How would she explain I was special?
“Special?”
“I’d like him to be sure he’ll have your teachers look after you a little more than they do the other students, if they do at all. If everything looks good and proper, we’ll take you shopping the day after. Don’t forget your prayers,” she added, and left.
I had been working so hard that my body was trembling. It didn’t stop until I had prepared for bed and slipped under my blanket. I heard their voices, a low murmuring from the living room, and then I heard them go up to bed. The house fell into its own silence, imperfect because of the way some of it creaked.
All the washing, polishing, and dusting of this house couldn’t wipe away the shouting, the cries, and the moans with the tears that fell within it, I thought. The walls were surely marked with all of it. To me, since it had been my world for so long, it was truly a living thing. It held all the secrets, but maybe those secrets were getting to be too stressful for it. Sometimes I felt the house spoke to me. I was embraced by it the moment I was born. What it wanted was for me to be able to throw open the windows and let the fresh air wash away its scars and wounds. I was its hope.
Despite the conflict raging inside me, when I awoke, dressed, and went out to breakfast, I saw how beautiful a day it was going to be. Grandfather Prescott talked about going to buy me paint and brushes again. He was taking Grandmother Myra to meet the school principal, and then they would stop at a department store that carried everything I needed. She didn’t object.
“Why don’t you make yourself a sandwich and have a picnic, too?” he suggested. “We’ll be gone until the afternoon.”
I looked at Grandmother Myra quickly, expecting some sort of objection, but she said nothing until they were preparing to leave.
“Don’t be out there later than four,” she said. “We’re having the Marxes over tonight, and I’m doing a roasted chicken, and I want to have homemade potato salad.”
“Okay, Grandmother,” I said.
Ironically, they were the ones pushing me out now. How could I go into the woods and not be drawn to the lake? I had told Mason I wouldn’t be there until two, but since Grandfather Prescott had suggested I take a picnic lunch, I could be there much earlier. How would I let Mason know?
I made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and took an apple and some milk. Then I gathered my pencils and pad and left just before they did. Grandmother Myra warned me once again to be back no later than four.
“Not that I know what you could do out there all that time,” she added.
“Artists lose track of time,” Grandfather Prescott reminded her. He gave me his watch again and leaned over to whisper, “I’m looking into getting you your own watch. Maybe today.”
“What are you two whispering about?” Grandmother Myra asked. Nothing got past her. She seemed to have ears and eyes working for her everywhere in this house. From what I was able to understand about my mother, I was positive she couldn’t wait to get out every day and escape the scrutiny.
“For us to know and you to ponder,” he told her.
She grunted. “I remember enough of that between you and your daughter,” she said.
Whenever she referred to my mother when talking to him, she never failed to call her my grandfather’s daughter, as if she had nothing to do with her. A few times, I actually wondered if that could be possible, but then thought that she was certainly not anyone who would care for a child who had no blood relationship to her. She couldn’t possibly forgive my grandfather for something like that anyway. It was stupid even to think about it.
He just winked at me, and they left.
I listened to the silence for a few moments, as if I expected the house to tell me what I should and shouldn’t do. I heard nothing, of course. This was one question I had to answer for myself: risk being permitted to get into the world, mixing with girls and boys my own age, become unchained and able to explore everything, or stay away from the lake and Mason and Claudine?
I still wasn’t sure what I would do when I stepped out of the house. My first thought was go to the clearing, draw, and have lunch, but when I came to that point in the forest where I could make a turn and head for the lake, I paused. My interest in Mason and Claudine was too strong to ignore now that I was out there. To my surprise, when I reached the place on the shore from which I had first seen them, I saw that they were both in the rowboat, but both looked asleep, the boat gently rocking. Were they asleep or getting a suntan? I waited and watched.
Suddenly, Mason opened his eyes and turned his head in my direction, as if I had called out to him. Maybe I had. Maybe I didn’t realize it. He sat up quickly and nudged Claudine. They looked at me. I wasn’t going to hide myself this time. Mason seized the oars and turned the boat in my direction. Claudine sat back, her arms folded over her breasts, looking like a queen being rowed about. At least they were both dressed, I thought.
“Spying on us again?” Claudine asked as they drew closer.
“No. I . . . Mason told me to come here. I just came earlier because I brought a picnic lunch.”
“A picnic lunch?” She laughed. “Now, why didn’t we think of having a picnic, Mason?”
“Not a bad idea.”
He maneuvered the boat as close to the shore as he could.
“Get in,” he said.
I hesitated.
“We won’t bite you,” Claudine said. “At least, I know I won’t. Mason might have another idea.”
“Stop it. You’ll scare her. I told you . . .”
What did he tell her?
“Oh, just get in,” she said. “I’m getting hungry, too. I’ll make us some sandwiches, and we’ll row out to the island.”
“Island? What island?”
“It’s not really an island,” Mason said. “It’s just a large clump of land with wild grass and some trees. It’s just around the turn in the lake there. C’mon,” he urged.
I stood and looked back at the woods. They could never understand how hard my grandparents’ house pulled on me. It was like leaving some sort of safe haven and venturing out into a world full of dangers, despite the hard childhood I had been living in it all these years.
“I’ve got to be home by three,” I said, figuring that if I said that, I would be sure to be home by four.
“Then get a move on,” Claudine said. “Allons!”
I started to step onto the rocks.
“Maybe you should take off your shoes and socks,” Mason suggested.
I looked up quickly, as if the suggestion was shocking.
“That’s right. You’ll begin your strip-down slowly,” Claudine teased.
“Will you stop it?” he told her.
She laughed. “Okay, okay. He’s right. Take off your shoes. The water is not really that cold.”
I slipped off my shoes but hesitated to take off my socks.
Claudine shook her head. “Haven’t you ever gone barefoot?”
Actually, no, I wanted to say, but I didn’t. I took off my socks and held them and my shoes tightly as I went over the rocks. There was no way to keep completely dry, so it was good that I had done it. They wouldn’t understand, but just the feel of the water on my naked feet excited me. Mason helped me into the rowboat. It rocked so hard I thought it would turn over, and I screamed.
“Relax. We’re all right. Just sit down,” Mason said, laughing.
I did. Claudine immediately slipped next to me, crowding me like someone who wanted to cuddle.
“Don’t you wear toenail polish?”
“No.”
“Your toes need it,” she said.
“They do not,” Mason said. “Don’t listen to her. She wishes she had your feet.”
She stuck her tongue out at him, and he laughed.
“What do you have for lunch?” she asked.
“Peanut butter and jelly, milk, and an apple,” I told her.
“Peanut butter? I haven’t had peanut butter since I was six or seven.”
“I like peanut butter,” Mason said.
“So why don’t you ever eat it?”
“Never think of it. Doesn’t Dad like peanut butter? I bet we have some. It’s healthy.”
“Oh, good. Let’s be healthy,” she said.
He dipped the oars in and pulled hard, turning the boat around in one fluid move. Then he rowed rapidly, as if he wanted to be sure to get me away from the shore before I could change my mind.
I looked back to where I had stepped forward barefoot and suddenly felt like an astronaut stepping out into space, free from anything that had once had a hold on me. I was, however, still tethered to the ship that had brought me here, held firmly in check by an invisible umbilical cord that kept me from being fully born.
Would that happen now?