by Brent, Cora
“Crazy ass bitch,” he mutters and gets up from the table.
I find him in our room, stuffing clothes and things into his school backpack.
“I don’t think she means it,” I say but I’m not convinced.
“I don’t fucking care.” He pushes more clothes into the bag. “I’m done with this shit. I’ll find a way to get some money and then I’m getting the fuck out of here.”
I shouldn’t feel like crying. Rafe is someone I avoid at all costs.
“A brother is a brother.”
Caris told me that. I can’t remember why. But it’s true.
Rafe is still packing while I dash into the kitchen. I find the purse my mother left on the floor. Her wallet has ninety two dollars inside and I take it all.
“Here,” I say a minute later, pushing the money into my brother’s hand.
He looks at it and his mouth tilts up in a smirk. He pockets the money and then reaches into his bag to pull out a pack of cigarettes. This is a strange time to casually light up a smoke. But he hands the pack over to me.
“To remember me by,” he says and he zips his backpack closed.
I stare at the cigarette pack. Half of the cigarettes are gone and there’s a lighter stuffed inside.
Rafe hauls his backpack over his shoulder and starts for the door.
“Maybe I’ll see you again someday, Limp Dick.” He turns and gives me a grin. “But probably not.”
I’m still standing there holding the cigarette pack when I hear the front door open and close. I don’t smoke and don’t especially want to start but I put them in my back pocket anyway because it’s the only thing my brother has ever given me.
I sit on the edge of Rafe’s bed with a hollow feeling in my gut. All at once it seems like the world is ending. My world, anyway. My brother is gone. My mother barely notices that I exist. And the summer is nearly over, which means Caris will be leaving soon. Caris is the best friend I’ve ever had. She’s the only person who makes me happy. But she’s leaving. And when she’s gone I’ll be more alone than ever.
It’s not fucking fair!
I pound on the bed with my fist even though it’s something a kindergartener would do.
Nothing is fair. Nothing ever has been. Knowing this makes no difference at all.
All it does is make me angry.
Caris, Age 13
Johnny is late today and I’m starting to worry when I finally see him come around the corner. He’s walking more slowly than usual, almost trudging. I run over to close the distance between us. I’ve been keyed up, pacing around the town square while I wait. There’s something I need to tell him.
He sees me coming and stops. “Hey,” he says but his voice is flat.
“Are you okay?” I touch his arm, hoping to hold his hand, but he doesn’t want that right now. He twists away the second my fingers graze his skin.
“I’m fine.”
He doesn’t look at me. His face looks much better today. The skin around his eye is still discolored but far less swollen. I’m sure his ribs still hurt. He leans against the thick trunk of a shade tree and lowers his head. I notice that he’s wearing the same clothes that he wore yesterday.
The tree trunk isn’t wide enough for me to lean beside him so I just kind of stand there awkwardly and fidget. He’s not going to be happy to hear the thing I need to tell him.
“Rafe was at my house this morning,” I say and Johnny’s head immediately snaps up.
“Rafe was in your house?”
“Not in my house. Outside. I was eating breakfast and I heard yelling so went out through the side door to see what was going on. Aunt Vay was bringing a bag of garbage out and it looked like she found him coming out of the shed in the backyard. He just stood there glaring at her while she shouted about how he was trespassing and she was going to call the cops. Then he reached into the shed, grabbed a black backpack and gave Aunt Vay the middle finger before walking away.”
I’m expecting Johnny to become furious at his brother, like he was furious when he found out Rafe had been sneaking around the house and stealing pictures.
He just stares at me. “And what did you do?”
“Nothing. I just stood there watching. I don’t think Rafe even saw me.”
He makes a face. “Bet you told your aunt about the picture thing.”
“No, I didn’t. I probably should. But she just would have been all upset. I put the picture back on the table where it belongs and she never noticed it was gone.”
I don’t tell him the rest of it. How Aunt Vay slapped me. What she said about his father. How she ordered me to stop being friends with him. I won’t do that and I don’t care if she wants to slap me every day. She said nothing when I told her I was going to town and I’d be back for dinner. She stayed on the couch and kept folding clothes from a basket of laundry. I don’t think she likes me very much anymore. That’s fine. I don’t like her very much either.
“What was Rafe doing in our shed?” I ask Johnny.
To my shock, he snaps at me angrily.
“How the fuck should I know, Caris?”
I swallow and my throat feels thick. Being yelled at by Johnny is worse than being smacked by Aunt Vay.
“What’s wrong?” I ask him in a quiet voice because I’m sure that something really is very wrong. He’s not acting like himself at all.
“Nothing.”
“You can tell me.”
“All right.” The look he gives me now is different, full of disdain, like the sight of me irritates him. “My mom kicked Rafe out last night. He was probably sleeping in your shed.”
“Why’d your mom kick him out?”
“Because she’s a crazy bitch.”
I’m stunned to hear him refer to his mother this way. I know she’s not a good mother. She’s always running off with her boyfriend and leaving him to fend for himself at home where he’s abused by his violent brother. But he’s never talked about her like that before.
Suddenly he slumps against the tree. “I’m sorry. I know I’m being a jerk.”
“It’s okay.” I want so badly to hug him. I’m not sure he wants me to, though.
He looks completely miserable. “I don’t think I can hang out today.”
“Maybe you’d feel better if we went somewhere else. We could take the bus to the mall again.”
“No. I’ve got to go look for Rafe. Maybe if I talk to my mom I can convince her to let him come back to the house before he gets into trouble.”
“You’d do that for Rafe? Even after everything he’s done to you?”
Johnny looks at me. His brown eyes are beyond sad. “A brother is a brother.”
I’ve heard that before. Actually, I’ve said that before, although I didn’t know what I was talking about because I have no brothers and never will.
“It seems like Rafe might be the exception.” My only fear is that Johnny’s brother will hurt him again but somehow my words make him furious.
“You don’t know anything,” he says and even though I’d just been thinking that exact thing a few seconds earlier I’m stung when he says it.
“I can help you,” I offer. “We can look for him together.”
“No.” He refuses without a pause and peels himself away from the tree trunk. “I’m going alone.”
I’m hurt. I know he’s hurting more. I only want to help him. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.
I take a deep breath so I don’t start crying. “Can we meet here tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” He’s already walking away and he hasn’t even said goodbye. His head is down and his hands are jammed in his pockets.
“Johnny!”
He turns at the sound of my shout. I don’t really have anything important to say. I don’t want him to go.
“Be careful,” I call to him.
The slightest of smiles skates across his bruised face and he nods. Then he turns around and keeps walking.
I watch him un
til he disappears and then I lean against the same tree Johnny was leaning against. I don’t really have anything to do in town without him around. My dad sent me some more money and I was going to treat Johnny to ice cream today. I could still go and get a butter pecan cone but I just don’t want to, not by myself.
I end up wandering around the aisles of the market. Harold Keyser spots me and calls me over when he’s between customers.
“How’s your friend? Is he doing okay today?” He seems honestly concerned about Johnny. Then I remember that he’s the one who told Aunt Vay that I was hanging out with the grandson of Billy Hempstead. Harold probably didn’t mean any harm but now I’m annoyed.
“What do you care?” I say and then leave without buying anything.
As lonely as it is wandering around town by myself, I really dislike the idea of returning to Aunt Vay’s house. Even without the disturbing presence of Gary it’s uncomfortable, especially now that Aunt Vay is mad at me.
I decide that if I walk around Arcana for long enough then I might run into Johnny. Maybe he already found Rafe. And if he can straighten out this mess with his brother perhaps he’ll be in a better mood. I want him to come visit me in Dallas. If I talk to my dad about it he might agree and even pay for Johnny’s trip.
Then I remember one critical fact.
Johnny is a Hempstead. His grandfather killed my grandparents. There’s no way my folks will invite him to our house.
I walk out to the meteor crater, thinking all the while. In a few years I’ll have my driver’s license. So will he. Then no one can stop us from seeing each other. I wonder if I’ll be prettier by then. My parents tell me I’m pretty all the time but that doesn’t count. Johnny will be really good looking when he gets older. I can tell already. He’ll probably have all kinds of girls deciding they like him. I’m jealous of them, the girls his age in Arcana.
He’s not at the meteor crater. No one is. The museum is closed today and it’s kind of spooky walking around the edge of the crater while the wind whistles in my ears and not a soul is in sight. I don’t stay there long but before I go I look through my phone to find the picture I took of us the day we met. Looking at it makes me feel depressed so I stick the phone back in my pocket.
On the way back I take a different route. Usually I avoid going this way and so does Johnny. I’m not sure about the exact spot on this road where their car broke down. It might be right where I’m standing. Richard would have pulled it to the side and Nancy probably stood nearby, watching and asking if there was anything she could do to help fix the flat tire.
I stop in my tracks when I see the field. The grass is long and yellowed from being scorched beneath the summer sun all season. It probably looked the same way when my grandmother was killed in this spot.
A sour taste rises in my throat. I’m going to vomit if I stay here for one more second. I shouldn’t have come. I turn on my heel and run as fast as I can back to the road and the comfortable civilization of downtown Arcana. I keep going all the way to Dunstan Street and when I get to the door I’m panting so hard I feel faint. There’s a dull pain in my chest and my heart hammers away. The side door is unlocked and I go right to the sink and fill a glass of water. I drink two more glasses after that and finally begin to feel better.
I’m surprised that Aunt Vay hasn’t called out like she usually does when she hears me come home. She must be here if the side door was unlocked. Plus I saw her car outside. On the other hand, sometimes she walks around and visits neighbors. The house has an empty feeling to it so that’s probably the explanation.
Now that I’m not dying of thirst I feel better. In the living room there’s no sign of anything amiss. The photo of my mother that I replaced on the end table is still there. She smiles at me from the past. I wonder if the photo was taken before she was raped by Clay Hempstead. I’m sure Johnny doesn’t know anything about that.
The wall clock ticks the seconds away and it’s the only sound.
Something feels off and I don’t know why or how to explain it. I’m struck by the horrible thought that maybe Rafe Hempstead has come back. If Aunt Vay left the door unlocked before visiting neighbors then he might have returned and sneaked in.
I stand frozen in place and listening for endless seconds.
There’s nothing.
There’s no one.
I’m paranoid.
With a sigh I start down the hall toward my bedroom. I’m tired after running so much. I feel like taking a nap.
I’m all the way inside my room before I see her. She’s crumpled up on the floor between the bed and the dresser and there are dark red splashes on the beige carpet. Her bare legs are splayed out at an uncomfortable angle and she doesn’t move.
“Aunt Vay!” I’m down on the floor in an instant. I touch her shoulder but she still doesn’t move. I heard somewhere that you’re not supposed to move a person who has been injured in case their spine is affected but I have to make sure she can breathe.
Using as much care as possible I turn her over and what I see makes me gasp out loud. Her face is covered with blood and is so swollen I can hardly recognize her. A sizeable gash is on her right temple. This isn’t from a fall. Someone did this to her. A wheezing sound escapes her mouth and I’m beyond relieved to know that she’s alive.
“Don’t worry, Aunt Vay. I’m calling for help.”
My fingers shake and I’m hyperventilating as I call 911. I’m crying as I explain the need for an ambulance. The operator keeps me on the phone and asks me questions in a kind voice but I can’t answer them because I can’t think correctly.
Within minutes I hear the first sirens.
The police arrive first and then the paramedics. They load Aunt Vay onto a stretcher and she’s moaning now. One of the officers tells me to go sit in the living room and then another officer arrives to talk to me. He finds a box of tissues and gives them to me. He asks me questions and tells me it’s okay to answer them. He’s probably a dad. He has that dad tone to his voice.
“Caris, I know this has been an awful shock but your aunt is on her way to the hospital and the doctors there will take good care of her.”
I blow my nose and focus on taking deep breaths.
The officer’s eyes are gentle. “Can you tell me if there is anyone who would threaten your aunt? Have you seen anyone hanging around the house who shouldn’t be?”
I keep breathing deeply so I can manage to talk.
And then I tell him.
I tell him about Rafe Hempstead stealing my mother’s picture.
And about Rafe coming out of our shed this morning.
The office’s mouth sets in a thin line and he nods. He says not to worry. He’s going to make sure my parents are called and someone will take me to the hospital shortly.
Then he needs to get off the couch and leave the room to talk into his radio.
While I’m sitting there alone with my hands in my lap people keep coming in and out of the house. A few of them glance at me but their faces are all determined and grim.
I know my thoughts should be all about Aunt Vay and many of them are. But I also think about Johnny. I hope he can forgive me for telling the police about his brother.
I wish he were here, holding my hand.
But somehow I don’t believe he will ever hold my hand again.
Caris
There’s something both comforting and unnerving about waking up in my childhood bedroom. When I open my eyes I see the purple accent wall with the butterfly curtains that I picked out when I was eleven.
Since I left for college my parents only venture into this room to dust. When some of my friends come home from school they find their rooms stuffed with exercise equipment or repurposed as a craft room. The sight of the cheerful butterflies on my curtains makes me smile and I reach underneath my pillow for the object I put there before I fell asleep.
I sit up to snatch my glasses from the nightstand the then touch the block printed letters on the brown
paper bag in my hand. I was on the plane and halfway to Dallas by the time I found the bag. I’m sure it was not there when I left my purse on the kitchen table after we got home last night. Jay must have put it there later, after we argued.
Reminds me of the day we met.
I do remember everything, Caris.
And I want to tell you about it.
Happy birthday.
Love, Jay
I reach into the bag and remove the delicate silver butterfly necklace that he obviously bought the other day at the butterfly conservatory. On the day we met, a Monarch butterfly surprised us on the walk back to the Arcana town square. That was my thirteenth birthday and I remember thinking that my best present was meeting a new friend named Johnny. I remember it all now as clearly as if it happened yesterday.
He remembers. This is his way of admitting that there are some pieces of the past he’s not willing to forfeit after all.
Love, Jay
I fasten the chain around my neck. My phone is plugged in on my desk and I grab it to fire off a text before I can think twice. He’ll be working at the bakery right now so I don’t expect he can answer but I feel an urgent desire to tell him what’s on my mind.
Thank you for my gift. I miss you.
I pause and add something else.
Love, Caris
Less than ten seconds pass before there’s a ping from my phone.
Miss you more. Happy Birthday.
In all likelihood he’s elbow deep in muffin batter but I need to hear his voice. He answers on the first ring.
“Happy birthday,” he greets me. He’s smiling. I can tell.
“Thank you for the necklace.” I touch the silver butterfly beneath the hollow of my throat.
He takes a deep breath. “The other night was my fault. I should never have said those things and walked out of your room and-”
I’m shaking my head as I cut him off. “No, we don’t need to talk about that right now, not on the phone. I just woke up and all I wanted was to hear your voice for a minute.”
“I really do miss you like hell, Caris.”