The Rules of Burken

by Traci Finlay

  She stared at the ground. A cold, weathered statue.

  Ian picked me up by the arm. “Let’s go.”

  I jerked away from him. “Get the hell outta here! I’m twenty-two, and I’m not even doing anything wrong. I can smoke cloves with my friends if I want. We’re not smoking pot. It’s not like when I got drunk at sixteen, which by the way, you’re reacting worse to this than you did back then.”

  Ian stepped away from me and shoved his hands in his pockets, his eyes challenging. He nodded. “All right. See ya.” He threw my phone charger at me and walked away.

  I turned back to the girls—Dana was still a statue, and Lauren was watching Ian, her hands working between her legs. “That was hot,” she whispered.

  I rolled my eyes at her lack of shame as I leaned down to grab the charger snaked in the grass. “I should go with him. I’m sorry, you guys. I have to fix this.”

  “Is he really mad at you for smoking cloves?” Lauren asked incredulously. “I mean, fuck. You’re not twelve.”

  “It’s not the cloves, Lauren. It’s me,” Dana stated. “And the fact that Charlotte lied to him on the phone. He hates being lied to.”

  I glared at her. “How would you know that, Dana? You must have lied to him at some point in your ‘relationship.’ Hmmm, I wonder which point that was?” And I stormed away before I could see her face fall. Who did she think she was? I didn’t need her to explain to me how my brother worked.

  I jogged through the trees to catch up with Ian’s determinedly fast pace. “Ian, I’m sorry I lied. I—I didn’t know Dana was going to be there, honest.”

  He spun around and jabbed his finger in my face. “Cloves? Really? You’re sneaking around and lying, denying my offers to bring you your phone charger all so you can smoke cloves?”

  “I wasn’t sneaking around and lying to you!”

  “You tried so hard to get me off the phone, you basically begged me to leave you phoneless. ‘Please, Ian! Please! Don’t come over here! I’d rather my phone die than have you catch me with the moron who tried to ruin your life!’” he mocked.

  I stepped back. “Wait, you’re confusing me. Are you mad at me for smoking cloves, or because Dana was there?”

  “I’m not mad, Chuck. I’m hurt because you lied to me. I’ve never lied to you.” His shoulders drooped and he turned, heading back toward the yard at a much slower pace. I followed.

  It was hours before he spoke to me again, before he acknowledged my pleading. I finally quit trying and was just about to fall asleep in Razzle Dazzle when he stormed out of his room. “I’m not paying for your college anymore,” he stated from the hallway.

  I rubbed my eyes and sat up, because I was pretty sure that was derived from a nightmare I must’ve been having. “What did you say?”

  He stomped into the living room and stopped in front of me. “I’m done paying for your college. I’m sick of bending over backwards for you, and in turn, you just betrayed me in the worst way possible.”

  I leaped off Razzle Dazzle and landed in front of him, my hands going into my hair because I couldn’t believe what was happening. “Ian, I didn’t betray you! I’m sorry Dana was there, but I didn’t know Lauren invited her! I haven’t spoken to Dana since the night you guys broke up, I swear.”

  “You could’ve told me that on the phone. I would’ve believed you. Instead, you lied and tried to cover up the fact she was there. You protected her, and at that moment, you chose her over me.” Ian looked so hurt, the angry embers flickering in his eyes, nonetheless. “Maybe you’ve forgotten the sneaky, evil shit she did, Chuck. Accusing me of rape. Do you know what that could’ve done to me if that got out? I wouldn’t have the job I have now, that’s for damn sure. This little bitch parades around, bragging about being a virgin from the same mouth she accuses me of raping her with, and you’d rather lie to your own brother than to walk away from her.”

  Tears welled in my eyes, and I felt so horrible I couldn’t speak.

  He exhaled as he lowered on the couch and ran his hands through his hair. “I just … I don’t know, man. I just think you’d be a little more appreciative toward me, considering all the things I’ve done for you since you were a kid. I thought we were close, but maybe it was all in my head.”

  I sat on the couch next to him, placing my hand cautiously on his shoulder. “I do appreciate you! I’ve always appreciated everything you’ve done for me. This was just an unfortunate event, Ian. I made a mistake, I shouldn’t have lied to you. But that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate you. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and I took the easy way out, and I’m sorry.”

  He looked at me like he was considering my apology, and for a moment, I fooled myself into thinking he’d accept it. But then he knocked my hand off his shoulder and stood. “Nah, I’m done, Chuck. I’m done bending over backwards for you. I’m not supporting you anymore, and I’m really not paying for college.”

  I immediately started sobbing. “Ian, please! I have one semester left, and I’m done! I’ll pay you back. I’ll get a loan, apply for a grant, something. I can’t quit now, not when I’m this close.”

  He walked slowly toward the hallway. “Do what you gotta do. But leave me out of it.”

  I spent the majority of the following morning on the phone with the registrar at MSU, ultimately having to leave a message for the financial department. Registration for the next semester was closed, and although I was already registered, the tuition payments and book fees were due. They were willing to accept monthly payments on the tuition, but the book fees needed to be paid up front, and that was two-hundred bucks I didn’t have. Then I completely forgot about the internship program, which was twelve of my remaining eighteen credits, and there was a whole mess of paperwork and fees for that as well, and I absolutely had to have Ian for that. And if I didn’t apply for the internship within two days, I’d have to wait until the following semester, and pay registration fees all over again.

  There were no available scholarships or grants, and as far as financial aid, I had to wait for the financial department to call me back. Ian came home from work as I was leaving the message on their voicemail, and he listened to my pleading as he grabbed a Gatorade from the fridge. I hung up and plopped down at the table, rubbing my hands on my forehead. He moved to the living room without a word, and that’s when I decided I wouldn’t cook dinner.

  I stayed in my room the rest of the evening, waiting for him to come scream at me about food, but he never did, and I finally heard him calling and ordering pizza. That’s fine—two could play at this game. I wouldn’t show up for his track practice tomorrow, and he could deal with all those kids himself. See how he could handle that.

  But the next day, as I waited by both the landline and my cell for the financial department to return my call, I began to get worried. By two o’clock, I picked up the phone to call them and realized there was no dial tone. I checked the cables, all the cords—everything was plugged in. The landline wasn’t working. I grabbed my cell and started typing in the number when I realized the top corner which usually displayed the reception bars simply said NO SERVICE.

  “What the hell!” I hollered in the kitchen, and ran to the computer to send an email. But just as I suspected, there was no internet service. I screamed at the top of my lungs.

  I barged into Ian’s office at McBain and slammed my hands on his desk. He glanced up at me, like he had no idea I’d be accosting him in this angry fashion today. “You disconnected everything,” I growled.

  He cocked his head. “Of course I did. I told you, I’m done with your games.” Then he turned back down to the paperwork at his desk.

  I snatched the pen out of his hand and tossed it across the room. “But now you’re just sabotaging me! It’s one thing if you’re not going to help me anymore, but you’re purposely trying to ruin my life at this point.”

  Ian stood from his desk pissed as hell but consciously controlling himself in his work environment. “Maybe your f
riend Dana will help you.” And he walked around his desk and began grabbing equipment for track practice. “Now let’s go. This is a big practice.”

  “Are you out of your fucking mind?” I screamed, and it echoed down the hallway. “You think I’m going to help you with your fucking practice?”

  He lunged toward me and clapped his hand over my mouth. “Watch your language! This is a school, Charlotte! I’m an employee here!”

  I pushed his hand off my face. “I’ll sabotage you, too, motherfucker!”

  He slammed his office door shut and turned to pin my shoulders against the wall. I wanted to spit in his face. I almost did, but the small remainder of my brain that was still thinking logically said that’d be the worst possible thing to do right now.

  “I have a solution to all this. I was going to tell you today, but you came roaring in here like a psycho. I got a full-time job for you, and I have a way for you to finish college for free.”

  I felt my spirits rising, despite the Satanic look on his face and the strength behind his arms pinning me to the wall.

  “I will tell you, but right now I have a track and field practice to run. And you will help me with it. We’ll discuss this tonight at home,” he said authoritatively, and I nodded.

  That evening, I sat across from him at the kitchen table, squirming as if I were interviewing for Corporate America. He strummed his fingers on the table, and why did I feel like I was in trouble?

  “I don’t know why I’m doing this for you,” he began, and I realized I probably was in trouble. “Here’s the deal. McBain is making some organizational changes in staffing. It’ll take a couple years, but changes are being implemented as early as next school year. I’m going to end up as chair of the athletic department. I’m going to oversee everything from PE classes, to intermural clubs, to JV and Varsity girls’ and boys’ sports programs. All of it.”

  He paused like he was waiting for me to say something sarcastic, and I wanted to, but I knew he was dangling this carrot in front of me, and I wasn’t going to screw this up. “Congratulations,” I said as sincerely as I could. “So where do I fit in?”

  He hesitated, rubbing his jaw like he was reluctant to do this, like he was really hurting himself in order to make this happen, whatever it was. “They’ll need a new PE teacher. A new track and field coach. The administration already loves you, so do the kids. You’re already familiar with the school, since you’ve been helping me, and your name was the first to come up when discussing my replacement.”

  My heart started pounding, and I tried my hardest not to smile, but was I actually being offered a position at a school, doing what I’ve always loved?

  “There’s a small catch to this,” he continued. “You have to get a teaching certificate. And in order to do that, you need an education degree.”

  My shoulders slumped.

  “But the good news is, the school will pay for it, in turn for you coming on as staff until you finish your degree and earn your teaching certification. A lot of your credits you’ve already earned will transfer, so it should take you about another year and a half to finish, and maybe even the biology credits can transfer into some sort of minor, and you could teach a science class or two, if you want.”

  I was smiling—I didn’t even know when I finally surrendered to it, but somewhere during that speech, I did, and Ian cracked a smile himself. “Are you okay with this? I know you wanted to go into forensic science.”

  I clapped. “I’m great with this. Ian, this is fantastic. Forensic science is interesting, but this job landed right in my lap, and they’re paying for me to get my degree! I can even get a part-time job in the meantime, to help pay the bills around here, and I’ll even pay for my own cell phone.”

  His eyes darkened, and I wondered what I said wrong. “Chuck, I’ll pay for your phone. Don’t worry. You just focus on getting your degree and doing whatever they need done at the school. I’ll let them know tomorrow you’re on board.”

  I jumped up and hugged him. “Thank you, Ian. I’m sorry I’ve been so awful to you.”

  “You have been awful to me,” he said, and I laughed. “Can you just do me one favor, though?”

  I retracted from our embrace and looked down at him as he sat in the chair, his eyes pleading. “Please don’t ever talk to Dana again. Or Lauren, for that matter. Lauren is bad news, and I don’t trust her.”

  I stared at Ian as a truth clouded over me—he had just changed the course of my whole life by giving me this opportunity I never could’ve received on my own. He was the head of the home, and now he’d be my boss at my new job. He held reign over me in every area of my life, and I had no choice but to do what he said. I nodded, realizing that if I ever got caught with either of them, he could take this job away from me, and then what? The more Ian gave to me, the more power he held.

  “I promise, I won’t ever talk to either of them again.” And I thought of all the possibilities he just laid at my feet—stability, income, independence, a career, and not one friend to share it with.

  Juice runs down my chin as I bite into my peach, and I mop it with a paper towel. I twist side to side on the barstool as Nikka nibbles next to me, and I wonder how she makes peach-eating look cute.

  “So you and your mom were bickering?” Nikka summarizes. “What happened that finally made her leave?”

  I shrug and swallow the juicy peach flesh. “It was a mutual decision. She was there for the wrong reasons, and I can’t handle her when I have Ian on the loose.”

  Nikka shakes her head disgustedly and tosses her peach in the sink. “That’s how I felt when our dad finally wanted to be involved in our lives. It’s like, you’re a parent, and your selfishness has managed to mess up our entire lives. And now you just want to invite yourself back in like nothing?” She scoffs and wipes her hands on her pants, then smiles at me. “But don’t worry, Charlotte. This too shall pass. We were really pissed at our dad at first, but now he’s back in our lives, and we have a good relationship with him. It’s actually helped us get past some of the bitterness from things that happened to us as kids.”

  Oh, no. She’s gonna tell me a story, isn’t she?

  “Do you know something?” Nikka huffs, her multicolored eyes clouding, and dammit all if she’s gonna tell me a story. “I remember our dad coming to visit us once. I think it was for Jacky’s ninth or tenth birthday. He’d always bring us gifts, thinking that would make up for refusing to take responsibility for us. Anyway, I was convinced he’d take us home with him that day. He’d just moved into a new house, had a good job, an established family, and I just knew this was the day he would rescue us from these … these monsters we lived with.”

  “The Barretts?” I blurt out before thinking.

  Nikka looks at me cockeyed. “How do you know about them?”

  Fuuuuuuuuuuck. “Jack may have mentioned them,” I manage.

  “Really? He told you about them? Well, no. It was before the Barretts. I don’t remember their names, but they were cousins of our mom’s. And they were way worse than the Barretts.”

  My stomach churns. Hearing these stories from Jack is hard enough. I don’t know if I can handle the poignancy of Nikka’s. Especially ones that start off with, and they were way worse than the Barretts.

  “Dad brought me a stuffed rabbit. It was brown and chubby, and the inside of its ears were a reddish-pink color. He told me to name it Melon.”

  My heart wrenches as I glance up at Nikka’s wild hair.

  “He brought Jack a computer game. I can’t remember the name, but it was something really popular. Every kid Jack’s age was playing it. Anyway, Jack told him we didn’t have a computer. So Dad gave him a bunch of money instead. He took us out to dinner, and afterward, I convinced myself he’d drive us to his house. You know, and be all like, ‘Surprise, kids! We’re home!’ But when he turned down the street these people lived on, I started crying. I begged him not to take us back there. I told him what that man and his brother woul
d do to me. I tore off Jack’s coat so he could see the marks and welts on his arms and back. I showed him the bruises on my legs and thighs. And you know what he did? He handed us each a twenty-dollar bill and promised to ‘make a call.’”

  I bite my lip and look at the refrigerator.

  “He made the call, all right. But he made the mistake of yelling at our foster parents. Said we told him what they did to us, and they’d better stop mistreating his kids. He basically tattled on us and left, and that evening…”

  I chomp down on my thumb. Here it comes…

  “They took my bunny and ripped its ears off. They threw the body in the fireplace and told me they’d give me something to ‘cry to Daddy about.’ She slapped me across the face so hard, my ear rang for two days. They shoved me in the bathroom and threw the bunny’s ears at me. They locked me in, and I had to sit on the floor and listen to Jack receive the worst beating of his life. Happy birthday to Jack.”

  I close my eyes and try to think happy thoughts. Birthdays? Not anymore. Bunny rabbits? Never again. Nikka’s drained the world of happy thoughts.

  “Sorry, Charlotte. If it makes you feel better, they were arrested. Then we were able to stay with our dad for a while. I don’t usually tell people this stuff. I told you because your mom abandoned you, so I know you understand.” She throws shifty glances at me. “And apparently Jack’s been telling you stuff, too.”

  “Nikka, I want to tell you something, and I need to say it quickly before I chicken out and don’t say it at all.”

  Her eyes go wide, but she doesn’t interrupt.

  “Jack told me about the Barretts.”

  Nikka looks like she just watched a beheading. “What did he tell you?”

  “He told me how Eli would punish you guys.”

  Her eyes darken, but it almost seems like she’s a bit relieved. I don’t know what that means, but I pray to God I haven’t said anything detrimental. “I think Jack still feels like he suffers the consequences to your actions.”