Forgiving Eve: A Novel

by Kathryn Hewitt

  His burnt orange tunic was all I could see of his outfit, but I was positive that behind the desk he was wearing thread bare jeans and most definitely Birkenstocks. His wavy brown hair, that he wore slightly long so that it curled around his neck, almost brushing his shoulders, caught the light and I noticed more gray woven through it than I’d remembered. I couldn’t blame him, running a “camp” like this definitely couldn’t fall low on the stress-o-meter.

  “Have a seat Eve.” It wasn’t until she spoke that I looked around the office and saw Irma. I’d only been in here once, the day I’d been brought to the facility, and I’d forgotten how Irma’s desk was nestled into the corner of the wall opposite to Richard’s. During my admission and initiation, they’d stood in front of Richard’s desk the whole time, leaning casually against it as they explained what they’d called, “The pertinent, the personal, and the expectations,” of being a camper. I remember being too focused on the Native American carving of a buffalo that sat precariously close to the edge of Richard’s desk, and which he only missed knocking off by a few millimeters every time he enthusiastically or emphatically made a point and punctuated it with a spectacle waving gesture.

  As I took in Irma, in her flowing paisley shift dress, I noticed that the couple’s desks were similar in a lot of respects. Both were overflowing in papers and files and plenty of decorative…clutter. Whereas Richard had what looked to be a hand thrown pen and pencil holder, Irma had a mug that read, “Don't help them bury the light, Don't give in without a fight.” Pink Floyd. Nice. They both had tons of art, sculptures and carvings, Irma even had something that looked like a bit of driftwood. While hanging above Richard’s desk were several dream catchers, from Irma’s ceiling hung several prisms and what I could only assume was a wind chime, as it was several small ceramic bells hanging in succession down a string. It looked Asian inspired. Why one would need a windchime indoors was beyond me, but hey, who was I to judge.

  But it was a wonder they got any work done at all, or could find anything considering the extensiveness of they decorative flair. Good thing both desks were a decent size. All of this was running through my head as I apparently just stared at Irma.

  “Eve?” she asked. Her tone wasn’t forceful, but it wasn’t as gentle as one would expect, coming from a woman who had a stone carving of a woman apparently giving birth, on her desk. I snapped out of it. Not responding, I just marched to the chair that sat facing Richard and she came over to stand next to him. They exchanged a look which I couldn’t decipher and honestly had no interest in trying to. Whatever was coming was inevitable, so there was no point in stressing about it.

  “You may be wondering why we called for you,” Richard began. It seemed like a stupid statement as well as being obviously rhetorical so I just sat there and met his eyes. I always wondered just how much the Cohens knew about me, but I assumed they must know as much as anyone could, at least as much as you could learn from a file.

  Noting my silence, Richard continued. “Eve, we are aware that you have turned 18. I’m sorry we’re a little behind in this, but you know how hectic things are around here and how much work is required of Irma and myself to keep things running. So,” he pressed his hands together, palm to palm with his fingers outstretched as though he were praying, “we hope you understand why it’s only now that we’re having this discussion.” He smiled.

  “You are no longer a minor, Eve.” Thanks Irma, or should I say Captain Obvious. “This means a lot more to us and to the government than it does to you at the moment, I’m sure, but you do need to understand that things have changed.” Now it was her turn to smile, but for some reason hers seemed much more forced than Richard’s.

  “What Irma is trying to delicately say, is that there is the big picture and the little picture.” What was this, tandem lecturing? “There’s the here and now, there’s the out there, there’s the future, and there’s the impact on Irma and myself.” I just kept staring at them.

  They continued to take turns talking in circles until I’d had enough. “Can you just tell me exactly what’s changed and how it will affect my day to day life?” Richard smiled indulgently. This was the first thing I’d said since I’d entered their office.

  “Well, we can no longer require you to attend classes for one,” Irma announced. Reeeeaaaalllly. I liked where this was headed.

  “So that means you can help out around the campus, either in the Caf, or help Ms. Hask in Admin, or you can do grounds work…there’s endless litter to be picked up.” I suddenly did not like where this was headed. They both stared at me. I just stared back, this time because I was actually speechless. I was no princess but if it was trash duty or class, I’d take class any day.

  After a long drawn out silence, Irma said, “Or Eve, the Art teacher could really use another set of hands. Sort of like a TA. And since we read that you were once involved in art, we thought maybe…”

  “I don’t do art anymore.” One more thing Phil had threatened me with, dangling it in front of me and then taking it away after he’d tainted it.

  “Well there’s always serving in the Caf…or wiping down the tables after meals,” Richard offered enthusiastically. Those manipulative bastards.

  “Well played,” I muttered under my breath. I’m sure they heard me, but they wore blank expressions.

  “So what will it be, Eve? This is just the first thing we need figured out, so if you could decide…” Pressure much?

  “Fine!” I threw up my hands and exhaled harshly. “Fine,” I said, a little calmer. “I’ll help out in the Art class. But I won’t be making any art. Ok?”

  “Sure, Eve. That works for us.” Richard held out his hands in a non-threateningly fake surrender. “We just want you to lend a hand, earn your keep, as my Gran used to say.” He smiled like I was in on his happy memory. I wasn’t.

  “Great,” Irma said, but she didn’t sound all that enthusiastic. These two were hard to figure out. “Anyway, let’s get onto the next issue. Richard will let you know the details of the Art assignment in the next couple of days.” Next issue? I swear I saw Richard send some sort of secret message via eye contact to Irma. Now I was getting nervous.

  “Eve. You realize that we are a government funded facility, right?” Yeah. We couldn’t afford a private institution once Phil jumped ship, not that I would have taken another cent from him. Not that he didn’t owe me, though…He owed me more than any man on earth could afford monetarily. But I would never accept anything from him, regardless of the fact that he never offered. If there was one thing I’d learned, it was that you needed to be able to support yourself in life. Being indebted to someone changed things, it changed the power differential. It definitely changed your feeling of self worth. If I was ever released to freedom and allowed to live my own life, and I decided life was worth living, I would never rely on someone else to support me.

  Apparently my silence was viewed as an affirmative response because Richard continued. “Well, there are very strict regulations involved when our wards reach Majority. Funding changes and the individual’s rights change.” I was suddenly hopeful.

  “Not for the better,” Irma chimed in. I was starting to resent her.

  “So the point is, Eve, in order for us to keep you here…and you are required to stay here per your plea, we need you to contribute and you need to know that the consequences change.” Richard looked solemn. I was simply confused. What was he getting at?

  Irma chimed in. “Eve. The point is, you screw up? We have to send you back to incarceration. I know it’s probably low security prison, you’d probably get off with good behavior…But Eve? You aren’t exactly known for your history of good behavior.” Fuck. You.

  “You’ve been rather exemplary in terms of behavior here, we wanted you to know that we’ve noticed…Your antisocial behavior not withstanding, you haven’t caused trouble or had any episodes.” Apparently Richard was Good Cop.

  “Well there was the one where you fainted and we had
to call your mom…” I was really starting to not like Irma. “But I saw that, and please don’t take offense to this, your mom’s presence seemed to amplify the problem. That was an interesting insight.” I kept glaring at her. “But you’re an adult now, so even if you had another anxiety driven episode, we couldn’t call your mom, legally, so you’re in the clear. Eve, I know this seems rough, I know the hand you’ve been dealt is not fair at all, but trust that we want to help. We run this place because we want to be supportive and be there for those who have no one who can fill that role. We do care.”

  Wow, Irma was softening.

  “I guess we’re just trying to explain that you need to keep in line, for your own good. You are expected to give back, which is why we thought of the Art class, and we’d like you to know that we’re here for you and that we want you to trust us.” Richard looked very solemn as he sat back down in his desk chair.

  “Ok.” It was all I could say. They didn’t seem surprised and they were rather calm about the whole thing. Then something dawned on me. “What about Jack?”

  “What about Jack?” Irma stared coolly at me. Almost challenging in her stare.

  “Well, I know he’s reached his majority, what does he have to do to “give back”?” I was honestly curious. Also I wanted to know how he was allowed to leave for long periods of time and not get in trouble.

  “Jack is not your concern.” Irma’s tone was icy. So were her pale blue eyes.

  “But…he…” I realized I was about to point out how he left and quickly realized that was tantamount to snitching, and a betrayal. I was sure that Irma and Richard knew about Jack’s escapades, and I understood after the fact that I wasn’t out for fairness and equality, but instead I just wanted to know Jack’s secrets, and I was going about it completely wrong. “Ok, so Art? You know where to find me. I assume I’m dismissed?” I tried to alter the course of conversation away from Jack and simultaneously seem bored and disinterested. The second part was not so much of a stretch.

  “We’ll be in touch.” Irma dismissed me with a wave of her hand.

  “Thank you, Eve. This meeting has proved to be quite successful.” Richard waved his tiny glasses at me and smiled. I walked as slowly as I could manage, considering I wanted to run out the door. Right before I left the room, I paused in the open doorway.

  “Oh and Irma? Richard? Thanks for helping Leila the other night. I don’t know what you guys did, or do, but it really helped her when she needed it.” With that, I left, not waiting for a reply.

  Once I’d made it outside, I stopped and pressed up against the building, breathing hard. That was one big mind eff and I was only now able to process it. There were two things I had taken away from the meeting. Firstly, I needed to be on good behavior and do what was asked of me because my ass was now an adult in the eyes of the state, and the punishments that went along with the categorical change were amplified. How much, I never wanted to find out. And secondly, Irma and Richard really cared about their funding and I was not going to be the one who negatively affected it. Well, make that three things. They really needed to organize their desks.

  Finally breathing a little easier, I took off for my tree, knowing that it was the only place where I could find sanctuary and attempt to center myself. I needed to assess everything they’d said to me, and figure out how to go from here with the least negative psychological impact. They had no idea of the extent to which bringing Art back into my life was both terrifying and unsettling. Too many memories and unhappy feelings were already rushing back to me, simply at the thought. Maybe they did know. Who really knew the extent of the Cohen’s understanding of our circumstances? Maybe this was some really screwed up attempt to force me to face my demons and learn to cope with them. I shuddered at the thought. I also silently cursed Greg since it was his damn fault I was even thinking in these terms.

  All of this was running through my head as I rounded the Art building and pulled up short.

  There was someone sitting in front of my tree. My tree. And that someone had black messy hair and piercing sapphire eyes which were already boring into my heart and soul. I was so taken aback that I barely realized that I’d stopped mid stride.

  “I know you said to leave you alone, but in case you haven’t noticed, I have a really hard time doing what I’m told.” I just stood there frozen, staring at him, as his deep voice washed over me. Jack had shaved and he was sporting a new black baseball cap, which he’d pulled up higher on his face when I’d come into view. He remembered when I’d told him not to wear it so low, that I liked to see his beautiful eyes.

  “Jack,” I whispered, unsure of where I’d found my voice, unsure of what to say to him, unsure of just about everything in my life. Whatever he saw on my face must have encouraged him because he gave me a little half smile. Even his half smiles were some of the best in the world.

  “Sit with me.” It wasn’t a question, just a statement. A statement which caused me to snap out of my impersonation of a statue, and walk closer until I was standing directly in front of him. He sat there calmly, back against the tree, his long legs stretched out in front of him. After a moment of hesitation, I dropped down next to him, careful not to sit closely enough that we’d touch. As I pulled my knees to my chest, hesitation washed over me. I had no idea where this was headed or what Jack had in mind and I tamped down the traitorous hope that was bubbling up inside of me.

  If this was going to turn into a ‘Berate Eve’ session, I wasn’t up for it. My psyche had been thoroughly pulled through the ringer during my meeting with Irma and Richard, and I wasn’t sure I could take anymore. In fact, I was certain I couldn’t take anymore. So I just sat there, in silence, uncertain and fearful. I may have been the one to break things off, but that didn’t mean that my own heart hadn’t been broken in the process. Just because I was used to feeling alone and empty inside didn’t mean I liked it. Familiarity did not connote comfort or content. Neither did resignation.

  Also, I really hoped Jack would say something already because I desperately needed to be pulled out of this mind tailspin I’d suddenly found myself in. As if he’d read my mind, he spoke.

  “It’s not the same, is it?” Ok, not what I was expecting. Also, Yoda called and wanted his … back. I had no idea how to respond so I went with my old standby: silence. Jack one-upped me by turning his head to look at me, and my neck betrayed me by turning to look at him. God, I always got lost in his eyes. They were so expressive, and soulful, and the most beautiful shade which only invoked images of shimmering oceans and galaxies right after dusk. I was losing it.

  As he stared into my eyes, which I was willing to remain a soft and hazy grey, I felt like an invisible cord was connecting us. Our energy was synched, like we were magnetized. Yeah, and I’d better make sure to pick up some dream catchers and chi centering crystals the next time I was at the store.

  Unable to break away from his stare, I just sat there, immobile and completely pulled in by him.

  “Sleeping, I mean.” Ahh. Jack had thrown me a bone.

  “No. It’s not.” Finally able to break away, I looked down and prayed I wasn’t blushing. I couldn’t believe I’d admitted that…but it was true. I missed sleeping next to him, curled up and encased in his warmth and comfort. The reality was that I missed Jack. Period.

  “Don’t look down. Eve, let me see your beautiful silver eyes.” So I’d failed at my mind control. No heather grey to be found, apparently. Stupid emotions. I frowned but still didn’t look up. Instead I examined the grass that was growing around my feet. My beat up checkered vans had clearly seen better days. “Please.” I couldn’t resist Jack for very long. Jack had a way of turning questions into statements. I looked up at him and he enthralled me all over again. Finally I couldn’t take it any longer.

  “Jack, I’m so sorry.” What? I mean, I was sorry. Really really sorry. But who reprogrammed me to say that? All I could do was maintain eye contact as I watched as a bevy of emotions passed fleetingly ov
er his face, finally settling on calm.

  “I know.”

  Ok, Twilight Zone? I’d like my life back.

  “Jack.” I couldn’t express myself. “I’m just…it was…I’m sorry.” Wow. I had truly lost control over my brain.

  Jack just smiled. This time, it was the real deal, full and joyous, lighting up his gorgeous face. It wasn’t fair that he was so good looking. All it ever did was make me wonder why he even gave me the time of day while simultaneously thanking whatever powers that be for the fact that he gave me the time of day. Or at least he had. I had no clue where we were now.

  “Come here,” Jack said softly. Without waiting for my response, he slipped his arm behind my back and pulled me onto his lap. I was now sitting sideways on him, turning to face him and looking up into everything I’d missed. I must have been lying to myself, or using denial as a coping mechanism, because it all came crashing down on me. How much I’d missed him: his warm body, his lovely face, his smell…the way he looked at me like there was no one else in the world. Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around his neck and nuzzled my face into the crook as his arms tightened around me. Inhaling, I wondered if I could ever get enough of Jack. I doubted it. I felt him press a soft kiss onto the top of my head and I smiled. We needed to talk, but the moment was too perfect and I didn’t want it to end.

  “I knew you’d eventually come here,” he said, into my hair. I managed a tiny nod. I guess my private spot wasn’t so private. Or, Jack knew me better than I’d realized. That scared me a little. As much as I cared about him, and knew the Jack that was part of Jack and Eve, he was still a huge mystery to me. I’d always assumed it was the same way for him, but I also secretly feared he knew more about me than I knew. How much had I given away? Jack was very perceptive, and his somewhat reserved nature allowed him to observe and retain a lot of subconscious things that people put out. It was one of things that both annoyed me to no end, and endeared him to me. Stupid perceptive Jack. I was a lost cause in that regard, since I was apparently completely inner-directed, and Jack was a master of exposing only what he wanted to be known about himself.