by Vickie Saine
“Why? You know they’ve always been blind when it comes to Riley. Hell, have you forgotten when he “accidently” shot the neighbor’s dog? Who was punished for it? Dad tore my ass up with that old belt saying I knew better than to play with his rifles. Riley’s the one that convinced me by swearing nobody would ever find out. He was never punished. Hell, honestly, I think he aimed for that old dog. He’d bitched about it barking all night. I’m telling you…something is not right with him and it only seems to be getting worse. Shh, dad’s coming… you better not tell him anything I’ve told you.”
Virginia’s mouth snapped closed and she pretended to focus on the movie.
“You’re watching Taxi Driver? Isn’t that a little too graphic for you?” her father inquired his brow furrowed.
“Yeah…you know its Brandon’s favorite movie.”
Her father stepped in front of the television—blocking both their views as he bent and rummaged through stacks of dvd’s. “We have Steel Magnolias around here somewhere. If I remember correctly that was you and your mom’s favorite, wasn’t it? ”
Brandon smirked and cupped his mouth so not be heard, “He thinks babying you will influence you to stay.”
“Dad, its fine, I actually like this movie.”
He came up, buried his hands deep in the pockets of his pants and kind of rocked on his heels blocking the best part of the movie. “Well, okay.”
Her brother snickered behind a fist.
She waved a hand. “We can’t see.”
Her father raised a brow. “I was about to make dinner. Any request?”
Brandon belched. Virginia shot him a disgusted look. “We’ve both had way too much junk food to be hungry,” she explained.
Later, after the credits rolled, “Alright, I’m out of here.” Brandon killed the television, gathered empty glasses and the bowl of leftover popcorn from the coffee table in front of the couch.
“Oh no, my foot’s asleep,” Virginia said standing on what felt like a stiff cast. She wobbled, while folding the blanket and laying it over the back of the couch.
“That’s what you get for sitting on your legs the whole movie. I never could understand how you could sit like that all the time. See you in the morning sis.”
Virginia carefully made her way to bed, smiling. Tonight was good. Normal. She needed normal. Her delicate fingers tips trailed along the wall as she moved down the hallway, her way lit by a night light plugged in to the socket on the baseboard. As soon as she opened her bedroom door, flipped the light switch, there in front of her on the opposite wall was a collage of words: SLUT, WHORE, TRADER, HARLOT, TRAMP, HUSSY, FLIRT, PRICK TEASE….BITCH. It was all there, row after row, every nasty word imaginable…red paint bleeding from huge, capital letters.
She screamed, a hand going to her mouth.
Lights came on instantly in the other rooms down the hall. Her father and Riley rushed in to the room, her father fervently working to tie the belt of his robe. Both men stopped, going rigid.
Virginia whirled around directing all her anger at Riley. “You did this!!!”
“What? Hell no, I was asleep.”
“Liar!” Her hands made fist by her sides.
Her father shook his head. “Virginia honey, let’s not go pointing fingers. Why don’t we go in to the living room and sit down?” He put a reassuring hand on her left shoulder and led her towards the door. He paused, and glanced back. “Riley do you mind cleaning that up?”
“No problem. “Riley scratched his jaw as he slowly walked the length of the wall. He examined the display of insults, his head tilted. A corner of his mouth rose finding the creativity impressive.
Virginia planted her feet refusing to leave the room until she’d had her say. “You believe him? Brandon was right…you’re blind to what is really going on around here.” Her eyes narrowed on Riley. “There’s been nothing but trouble since you came here. I wouldn’t be shocked if you were the one responsible for my mother’s accident. You cut her brake line, didn’t you?” She slid her gaze back to her father pleading for him to hear her. “Don’t you see? We’ve let the devil in to our house.”
In the den, perched on the edge of the couch leaning forward, the weight of her knobby elbows discoloring her knees, Virginia felt the first of her tears. Not tears of sadness, but tears of utter betrayal. Her father sat beside her, quiet, more relaxed than he should be under the circumstances. A wire brush scratched over sheet rock, the sound coming from her room down the hall as Riley tried to erase what was written on her wall.
“I don’t have proof, but I know he done it.”
Her father exhaled. “I think if you’d take a step back and look at what you’re proposing you’d see how ridiculous it sounds. What reason would he have?”
Her back teeth hurt as she clenched her jaw. “Okay, name someone else who could’ve wrote those degrading words on my wall. Come on dad, don’t you see there is no one else to blame. Riley is …” she paused, and proceeded with caution. “Do you know his dad used to beat him.”
“Virginia!”
“It’s the truth! Riley told me himself. Neither of his parents wanted a small boy around. He interfered with their wild parties. They both argued over who was going to care for him when he was at home. His father’s solution was to make Riley stay in his room all the time. If he came out he would get the belt. I can’t believe you never knew…why else do you think he started staying at our house all the time?”
“Riley told you this?”
“Yes…before I left…he told me all about the abuse.” She shook her head. “You’re still not getting it. Riley has a dark, demented side, one he keeps hidden. He can be aggressive…cold…manipulating.” Overwhelmed with her revelations, Virginia felt her throat close up as the stories she’d never revealed to anyone finally poured from her mouth. Years ago, it would have been too difficult to talk openly with her father about such things, but she’d been around Lizzie for so long….well, she’d grown used to vulgar comments and being blunt. “His mother liked her sex rough. She’d have guys over…she enjoyed being choked, whipped, painfully tortured...sometimes she’d take on more than one guy…Riley said once he watched five guys force his mother in to giving them all oral pleasure. Imagine the mental damage that would have on a small child.”
Her father said nothing for the longest time, his face blank. She remained silent as well, listening to Riley scuffle around down the hall. Her belly reacted to the penned up stress, burning and churning.
She continued, “All you’ve ever seen is his gentle side, the side that only wants to make others laugh. Now that you know….” Her voice dropped to a whisper, she eyed the hall. “What are we going to do to get rid of him?”
“Get rid of him? I admire Riley’s compassionate nature. He broke the cycle of abuse by getting out of it. Do you know how hard that is? It takes a very strong person to outrun a tragic childhood.”
“Okay, so he’s heroic, but he’s also dangerous!”
Laughter came from her father causing her to seethe with anger. “Riley is not dangerous…far from it. I agree, the words on your wall are disturbing…but someone else is behind it….someone you’ve forgotten? Think Virginia? How about Lizzie? Is she angry because you’ve come back? Is she lonely?”
“How can you blame her…when you don’t even know her?”
“That’s my point…I don’t know her. You’re the only one that does.”
“It’s the only logical explanation.”
She came to her feet. “I’m tired….discussing this is getting us nowhere. You refuse to hear anything negative about him.”
“Virginia, come back and sit down!” Her father called as she walked away.
Two steps in to her room and she froze at the sight of Riley crouching in front of her suitcase. Dark hair fell forward in to his eyes as he searched through the zipper pockets with his right hand. He dug deep, searching—but for what? Her gaze narrowed as she stood quiet and watched hoping to be pro
vided with some answer. Not finding anything he proceeded on, going through her clothing….his fingers slowly slipped through her panties, her bras. He paused, his fingertips enjoying the thin silk. Shit. Enough was enough. “Want to tell me what you’re looking for in my bag?”
He made no quick startled movements, sitting back on his hunches he ran a hand along his jaw. She noticed the definition of his forearms and calves as he stood up.
“Curious…that’s all.”
“That’s it? That’s your only defense?” She mimicked his deep tone and nonchalant attitude, “Curious…that’s all.”
Riley shrugged a shoulder, leaned a hip against her dresser in a lazy sort of way. He lit a cigarette; his Zippo snapped closed in the silence. He took several long draws before answering. “You’ve already convinced yourself I’m guilty.”
“You asshole! Wipe that damn smirk off your face. There’s nothing funny about what’s going on around here.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“Brandon’s figured you out…so have I? It’s only a matter of time before my father sees it too.”
If anything his grin only widened. “And what about your mother?”
“Oh, she’ll see it too! Everyone will see it!”
“Glad to see your fight is back, little mouse,” He said around a long trail of smoke. He WAS the devil! Attractive and tempting…but the still EVIL!
Six
“Sometimes you weren't supposed to share pain. Sometimes it was best just to deal with it alone.” –Sarah Addison Allen, The Sugar Queen
Riley hung his head, his arms rigid, his long fingers splayed out against the slick walls of the shower. Streams of hot water pulverized the taunt muscles visible along his shoulders. He doubled over and gagged as clips of disgusting memories came back to him in a sudden rush….the taste and pressure of a man’s penis in his mouth, being forced to pleasure a man while his mother lay passed out only a few feet away, how the same man had returned the favor giving Riley his first orgasm at the hands of another. Ten years old at the time, Riley had begged the man claiming no interest in being touched by any male. His shaft growing hard as the man worked it had revealed the lie in his confession. As hard as he had fought it, and he had fought it, Riley had found the man’s mouth on him very enjoyable.
Starting a long affair with his mother, the man had come to him often, in secret: late at night, in the dark, while he lay sleeping. Riley eventually gave in; no longer putting up a struggle he’d never win. He willingly welcomed the man in to his bed, but not his heart. He felt no attraction toward a man, only the pleasure one could provide. Would his father have put an end to his mother’s love affair, or the man’s obsession with his young son? Riley doubted it. His father spent most of his time trashed out of his mind. Only one thing mattered to him, and that was his next fix. Truth be told, his father would have probably used his son’s “experience” to score more drugs without needing the cash, which he often lacked. Some things were just better left in the past and forgotten.
Riley’s jaw tensed as he grew hard. Damn it! He grabbed the bar of Dial soap concreted in the corner of the shower. He scrubbed his flesh until it stung, becoming inflamed and raw. She was right, he was sick. Perverted and sick. He was the one that needed to be seeing a damn shrink.
Forget it. It’s the past. It wasn’t your fault. Riley mumbled those words under his breath daily, ever so often to remind himself he was just a young boy at the time and didn’t know any better. Virginia’s father had told him the same thing, “It’s not your fault.”
He toweled off, slid on a pair of black, nylon shorts and headed for his room. It was late and the house was quite. Assuming everyone was already asleep he stopped by the thin crack in Virginia’s bedroom door. Light spilled out in to the dark hall. Hearing voices, Riley put an ear to the crack. He took a light step closer careful not to make the floor creak.
“Brandon I know, I tried to tell him. He didn’t believe me.”
Riley inched even closer. He listened hard as Virginia’s voice spiked, “No! I don’t want you getting in to it with him. Just leave it alone. If he had anything to do with mom’s “accident” that means he’s capable of anything. Heaven forbid if something happens to you…. Wait, did you hear…shh!” He sensed her moving towards the door. Shit! He progressed on down the hallway towards his room whistling like a man that just stepped out of the shower …and was almost inside when Virginia stepped out in to the hall. He froze and turned feeling her glare settled on him.
“What excuse do you have for lurking outside people’s doors? Let me guess…you’re curious?”
She stood with her back to the door she just exited from, her arm tucked behind her, her right hand still on the doorknob. Was she trying to keep Brandon in, or Riley out? He noticed the way her eyes dipped to his bare chest, and the way her cheeks flared with color. Saying nothing he came to stand in front of her. She nervously spared a glance over her shoulder obviously considering what would happen if her brother stepped out in to the hall.
Brandon was the least of Riley’s worries as he gently reached around her to pull the door the rest of the way closed to where it was only her and him. No distractions. His bare chest rested against hers. Her eyes widened never leaving his. He noticed the quick hitch in her breath. He caught the smell of her mint toothpaste where she had recently brushed her teeth. His mouth hovered near hers, but never quite committing. She’d give in the same as she always did whenever he kissed her. But he wasn’t about to kiss her, not aroused and aching like he was.
“Virginia….you don’t want to go there.”
“There?” The word was muttered, her warm breath teasing the swell of his bottom lip.
“Don’t turn this in to something ugly. Trust me… you don’t want to do that.”
“Are you threatening me?”
He smiled and tucked unruly hair behind her left ear. “You do have an active imagination…I’ll give you that.”
Virginia sagged against the door as he released her, turned and walked away. She watched him go, exhaling a long breath when his bedroom door clicked shut.
Seven
“Why don’t you wake up? It’s as if I can feel you slipping away right in front of me.” Virginia grasped her mother’s hand tight. Early morning light filtered through the nearby blinds warming the covers piled on the bed. Her mother’s skin felt cold, her body lay motionless. Virginia cast her tear filled eyes to the floor. “Please, I don’t want to be here. I hate this house. I feel so alone all the time. If you abandon me…” and then she saw it, the prescription bottle under the dresser by the window. Chills crawled down her spine, a sick feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. She crossed the room, went down on her knees and felt her way through cobwebs until she bumped the cylinder bottle with her finger tips…a little further, almost, she grunted her arm extended under the dresser as far as it would go, until bingo. She dragged the dust covered bottle out. The typed print on the label read, “Phenobarbital.”
Phenobarbital? Why did that sound familiar? She searched her memory coming up with zilch. She sat the prescription bottle back on the dresser and immediately went to her room to Google the drug. She skimmed the page until she came across exactly what she was searching for.
She found her father sitting at the kitchen table his back to her as she entered the room, across from him was Riley. The room smelled of freshly brewed coffee and cigarettes an odd combination, like peanut butter and jelly, both she found equally pleasing. Riley shoved a hand through his dark hair and sat back in his chair exhaling a breath. Worry seemed to show in his brow. Was he aware the game he was playing was near its end? No one can juggle lies forever without eventually being caught in their own web of deception—rules of the universe.
“I think Lizzie is a huge part of it…” Her father’s words were low and cut short.
“Shh…we’ll talk about it later, little ears are listening. Morning Gin….did you sleep well?” Riley crossed hi
s arms over his chest and smiled. No, he was clueless as sly fox staring down the barrel of a loaded shot gun. He had no idea how his little, make-believe world was about to get rocked.
She came forward with a smug smile planted on her face. It felt wonderful to be right. In her hands she held the proof that would change everything. She slapped it down on the table in front of her father, all the while holding her enemies gaze. “Read it.” She ordered tapping the page with a fingernail. “Read what’s highlighted.”
In no hurry, her father took a slow swallow from the coffee mug in his hand; he carefully sat it down and then leaned forward squinting at the fine print. “Let’s see….um, the main characteristic of phenobarbital overdose is a “slowing” of bodily functions, including decreased consciousness (even coma).” His eyes rose to meet hers which finally left Riley’s to see the confusion washed over her father’s face. “Okay honey...so, what about it?”