“What would you like to do tonight?” Mary asked. “Your choice.”
I looked at Sally. “I’d like to see The Planet of the Apes,” I said.
Sally, Kurt, and Andy all shouted in support. “So would I,” Stan said and it was decided.
After the company had left, Una, Mary, Stan, Kurt, Andy, Sally and myself were off to the movies. “Does Una know about us?” I asked that night afterwards when I lay with Sally.
She shrugged. “I never told anyone,” she said, “but Una knows everything, so I think she must. She never sleeps and is always in the kitchen preparing food and eating. She practices magic and controls everyone who eats her recipes. I heard my mom and dad discuss it. She controls them completely. She’s a Rasta-Witch.”
I laughed lightly. It was hot in the room and we were sticky. “Let’s sneak out for a swim?” I said. “We’ll see if Una’s always awake.”
We dressed in our suits and snuck quietly down the stairs. No one was about, the kitchen was empty. We swam in the pool, but didn’t play for long. While I kissed Sally in the shallow end, I noticed a curtain downstairs flutter.
“Someone’s up,” I warned. We crawled out of the water, dripping up through the pantry to Sally’s bedroom. Una’s bedroom door was open.
Under the covers naked, our bodies were fresh and cool, and we kissed and hugged. “Have you ever bled from your button?” I asked as we lay in each others arms. She shook her head, clearly frightened by my words. “Girls get periods and bleed below for several days every month,” I told her. “It hurts. Soon after you get your first period, you can make a baby if a boy splashes inside you.” I could see that I’d gotten her nervous. “Sorry,” I whispered and fell asleep.
I left at near four o’clock and Sally was sound asleep, but I couldn’t get back to sleep myself. At dawn, I rose and dressed. I was going to leave a note that I was going to see my mother, but everyone but Sally was up. Larry the chauffeur was standing at the kitchen island reading the sport section of the newspaper and drinking coffee. Una passed me a glass of ice-cold milk.
“Why are you up so early, Christian?” Stan asked, checking his briefcase.
“I wanted to visit my mother’s grave and tell her about the news. I know she’ll be happy.”
He scratched his head. “Why don’t you gather some flowers for her and Larry will drop you off on the way.”
Everyone laughed and Larry nodded. Mary came into the kitchen. “What so funny?”
Una told her and she kissed Stan affectionately on the cheek. “You’re so cute, dear. You left your YISs in my office upstairs last night, I put them on the desk in your den.” She rubbed my head. “It’s a good idea, Christian. We’ll drop you off, if you’ll come straight back. Remember, Mr. Vondt arrives before noon.”
I nodded and rushed out of the house to gather flowers. It was startling to me that they had both had essentially similar responses, as though they were expecting it and knew what to say. They dropped me off and I thanked them and kissed Mary on the cheek. I was emotional and almost cried. At the gravesite, I carefully placed the flowers and spoke to my mother, sitting on a tombstone beside hers. I told her of my love for Sally and more of my new family, including Una, about the Arckon family, Mr. Vondt, and about my party last night, but I suddenly felt myself being watched. I rose, not alarmed, but feeling defenseless. I scrambled up into a nearby tree until I saw Lloyd come along and look up through the branches.
“What are you doing up there?” he asked.
I climbed down. I’d forgotten how thin he was, how his eyes were greedy and cruel. He was blond but with no fairness about it, perhaps because he kept his hair cut so short. His face, which formerly had struck me as formless, was also angular and atypical of an underfed adolescent his age.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I came to see you. I’ve been watching for you.”
He drew up and tried to kiss me. I pushed him away. “Don’t touch me that way again,” I said hotly. “Never again.”
“You’re too good for me now?”
“I never liked it. I did it out of fear, but I’m no longer afraid.”
“It’s okay for you. I’ve no one. I’m all alone.”
“You’re tough,” I said coldly, “you’ll get by.” He slapped my face, and I must say, I deserved it. “I’m sorry,” I said. “What do you want?”
“Will your new family help me. If I don’t get out, I’ll be destroyed.”
I shrugged, not greedy of my good fortune and genuinely wanting to help him, but also, I didn’t want him in my life. I realized I was paralyzed, and as well, I didn’t want to falsely raise his hopes. I was so torn by conflict, I thought I might get sick to my stomach. “What’s happened?” I asked.
“I’m being forced to work for Digby,” he said in a rush. “They hurt their scores now, you know, their tricks. You can’t do anything with the scores either or Digby and the others will beat you and call you awful names. I heard they bashed in a few tricks in Central Park, you know, killed them, poor buggers. I want out, but Dalmer and Darren spy on me. I’m trapped.”
I had heard of Digby, a nineteen-year-old Italian who had connections with bigwigs and I knew Dalmer and Darren, two fifteen-year-old orphan Irish brothers who were the worst bullies on Carling Street. They were really mean and like to hurt their marks. “I can speak with my father. I don’t honestly know what he will say. If he helps me, you can never tell him about our relationship. Do you promise?”
“I’d never say anything anyway. I’m not a faggot. I just liked you. I still do. There were no girls at Carling Street, remember?”
“Okay. I believe you.”
“There’s been a guy asking around about you at Carling Street. I didn’t see him, but Dalmer told me. He gave him a couple of fins for info.”
“You’re kidding?”
“No man. Dalmer said he was a wiry guy with curly hair.”
I couldn’t think of who it could be and wondered if Stan had hired someone to find out about my past. “You helped me out,” I said. “I’ll see what I can do for you.”
We shook on it and I left. When I returned Sally was up and I told her about my meeting with Lloyd, but not the part about the man asking about me. “Go and talk to Una,” she suggested and kissed me.
I found Una in the pantry. “You must stop scratching your scar, my full-grown child,” she said.
“It itches sometimes.”
“Resist the urge to scratch.”
“Lloyd helped me at Carling Street,” I said with tears in my eyes after I told her about my meeting with him. “He made sure the bullies didn’t take my things. It was horrible there and he protected me. It cost him a lot of problems and he has asked me to help him back. The bullies are forcing him to work for Digby, a bad man who robs and kills for other bigwigs. Two bullies at Carling Street are watching him. I promised I’d ask my dad what he could do, but I’m afraid. What will Mom and Dad think? Will they think I’m causing them too much trouble or that I’m a bad person for being a friend of Lloyd’s?
“I see your problem, my full grown child,” she said. “To stand up by your people is a sign of strength. I love that in a person, especially one so young. You’re a good boy. Tonight, after supper, go with Sally and talk to them. I’ll give them the heads up and they’ll be open-minded. Trust them. I’ll tell you something about why I’m their friend. They’re the best people I’ve ever met . . . your parents are wonderful, as you will learn.” Una hugged me and my heart filled with love for her. “Go play with Sally. Mr. Vondt will be here soon enough.”
Sally and I called on Andy, then swam in the pool. At noon, I joined Mr. Vondt in the Rose-room. I’d forgot to put on a shirt and was distracted enough not to hear my regular inner warning, when he didn’t ask me to go put one on. That sort of psychological background noise was all around me, but that day I was lost to it. A large chalkboard had been installed and I started with printing and cursive writing.
He always kept the double-doors to the outside locked, the front door closed, and the curtains drawn. He’d said it allowed me to concentrate, but I always felt closed-in.
“Go slower, Christian,” he said softly. “Your writing is improving, but your spelling is still atrocious?”
“What does atrocious mean?” I asked.
“Terrible.” He rose and came to the board. “It’s your single major problem in passing the test to get into the school.”
He wrote the word your on the board. “We have only two weeks left,” he continued. “Your, you’re, and yore, are three completely different words. Your is possessive. It’s your future and you’re learning fast.” He wrote the word you’re on the board. “You’re – You are learning fast. Yore is a thing of the ancient past. For example, in times of yore, the knights wore armor.” He wrote the word, their and there. “Their purchases are paid for over there.” He continued with two, too, to, and other anomalies of the English language. “When you take the test,” he warned, “think before you write. Go slow! It’s your best bet. Remember, y-o-u-r is possessive.”
He took out the book I was reading aloud to him, The Hobbit, by J. R. R. Tolkien. While I read, he checked my homework from the weekend. Although The Hobbit seemed like a good story, I’d trouble with the words and it went slow for me. Every third or fourth word I read, needed clarification by Mr.Vondt. I knew he had hoped I would finish it by September and would start reading a continuation of the story, The Lord of the Rings, by the same writer, but I found it hard.
The lesson went much the same as the others. But near the end, something happened that I had been dreading from the day I met him. I was at the part where Bilbo was lost in the black orc-mines under the Misty Mountains. This is where Bilbo finds the ring and outwits the vile creature, Gollum. Mr. Vondt had finished marking my homework notebook.
I struggled with misspelled sentences such as, What has it got in it pocketes? He sat beside me closer than he had ever risked, and then he put his hand on my shoulder and all at once tried to kiss me.
“What are you doing?” I said and attempted to struggle out of his embrace, but he was too strong.
“I want to talk to you a moment,” he urged with a whisper, his hands still on my shoulders, but he no longer tried to kiss me. “Will you stop squirming and I’ll let you go?” I nodded and relaxed in his grip. “I have a lot of love to give you,” he whispered. “I can teach you much about life. I’ve been every–”
I sucker-punched him in the nose, just as Lloyd had taught me, and jumped out of his grip. I then hit him over the head with The Hobbit as forcefully as I could. It was a hard covered edition, but it had no effect, moreover, his nose wasn’t even bleeding from my sucker-punch. I should have run. I had missed my opportunity to escape. He grabbed me and pinned me down on the floor, sitting on top of me. He proceeded to try and kiss me again, but I spit in his face.
“My father will kill you,” I hissed with venom.
He drew his fist back to strike me, but stopped himself at the last second. “I know about you and your friend Lloyd, you little bugger.” He smiled and must have seen I knew it to be true. He’d been the man asking about me at Carling Street. “I visited with some of your friends,” he continued. “Your new parents don’t know about Lloyd, do they? If you put out for him and held your tongue, you can do the same for me. If not, I’ll tell them what a sodomist they have adopted! They’ll send you back . . . they’ll be repulsed and be glad you’re gone. Now, turn over!”
He raised himself off me and I pretended to turn over, then elbowed him in the crutch, rushing out of his reach. Then the front doors flew open and I ran behind Una who stood there as I’d never seen her before. Her eyes were filled with fury. Mr. Vondt’s face had turn an unearthly pallid grey. He looked truly evil, truly scared. She said nothing for a time and when she spoke it was no more than a rustle.
“I’ll fetch you the doctor,” she whispered and suddenly was upon him, smashing from her right and left fists with her huge frame pushing out the force behind them. He fell from her blows, rose on one knee, his face already a mass of cuts and blood. However, she hadn’t finished, and although, he tried to fend off the final blows with his hands, they came at his ears and cheeks and he keeled over. She stood over him shaking.
“You’ll be gettin’ out,” she cried in one violent burst of emotion, “and be glad to be there. If I see you in my home ever again, I won’t let you breathe one more breath. That’s more than you deserve.”
She leaned over, picked him up by the scruff of his shirt and pants and carried him through the house to the front door. “Get the door, Christian,” she called. I was surprised to see that she actually gave it the old one, two, three, and threw him out onto the front lawn.
Sally came running to the front hall. “What’s happened, Una?” she screamed, crying.
Una’s eyes were glazed over and she took a large breath. “Getting rid of vermin. Oh, the stove.”
She raced to the kitchen and I took Sally into my arms, hugging her. Then I told her the story. We returned to the Rose-room and helped Una clean the blood off the floor. “You were brave, my full-grown child,” Una said, “and did good to fight back. Remember, when you’re in trouble, it’s no shame to call for help. It doesn’t mind at all, if you’re a boy or a man.” She caught my eyes. “You both understand, something of this has to be explained to Mary and Stan.”
I nodded, but wasn’t happy about it. “What will you say?” I asked.
“I’ll tell them what I saw and that you were resisting with all your might. I’ll tell them that big Una boxed in his ears and that we won’t see him again.”
“What about Lloyd?”
“This doesn’t change a thing. They are two separate issues.”
To me, it didn’t feel like two separate issues. Worse still, I had lost my teacher two weeks before the test, and as the time drew nearer, I’d become desperate to pass and show Mary and Stan that their faith in me wasn’t wasted. “What will happen to my instruction?”
“I’ll do it,” Una said. “Would you like to partake in it, Sally?” Sally gave a little giggle and nodded. “There, problem solved. Go play.”
That night we ate together and I knew Una had told them about Mr. Vondt. After our meal which I couldn’t eat, I was too nervous, we sat in the living room. I again sat in a Wassily chair and Sally sat in the powder-blue couch with Mary. Behind me, the curtains weren’t completely drawn, and by turning slightly, I could see part of the pool and the clusters of white birch trees from where I sat. The two enormous pictures on the wall were lit up tonight. One of them was of a mysterious landscape; a wretched mountain and forest in the mist. It was silvery-blue-grey in color and was taller than it was wide, blending perfectly into the room. I didn’t know then that the room had been designed for the painting and not the other way around. It was worth more than anything else in the mansion.
Stan stood before it as though studying it anew and then sat in the other Wassily chair beside me, turning it to face me. Una sat on a love-seat against the wall and took up almost the whole chair. “First of all, Christian,” Stan said, “Mary and I wish to apologize to you. I chose Mr. Vondt and feel guilty about it, but we are very proud of you. You weren’t intimidated and fought back. You won’t see Mr. Vondt again. Una has agreed to finish your educational instruction for the next two weeks. She’s highly educated, far more so than Mary or I or even Mr. Vondt. We are equal partners with her and have every confidence in her decisions. From the beginning she could have done it, but she does so much for us already, that we didn’t dare ask. We’ll get Una some help in the kitchen for the next weeks, but we don’t want you to think that Mr. Vondt has been replaced by someone who’s his underling in this regard, on the contrary, she is a genius, even if quite mad.”
Both Mary and Una laughed at this, but Sally seemed baffled, and I know I was as well. Bringing up the matter of Lloyd, was as hard a thing as I ever did. I simply didn’t k
now where to begin and felt not too thrilled about further obliging my new parents, but there was nothing for it. Una knew, and so did Sally, if I didn’t speak up, they might. “This morning when I visited my mother’s gravesite,” I said, “a friend was waiting for me. His name is Lloyd Mills. In Carling Street, there were bullies who made the younger kids do mean things.”
Mary was obviously shocked. “Like what?”
“They took their food, toys, money, whatever they had,” I answered seriously. “Lloyd wasn’t afraid of these bullies.” I’d no intention of telling them that he was one of them. “He carried a knife and the bullies avoided him. He protected me. They beat the other kids and made them do their chores and other things.” The other things were sex, and of course, I could tell them nothing of that either.
“I never realized it was so bad,” Stan said and clenched his fists on his knees, “but this Lloyd, he helped you.”
I nodded. The next part was the most difficult. “The bullies are now forcing him to steal from people out on the streets,” I said. “Some marks even get hurt.”
“By marks, do you mean victims?” Una asked.
I turned red and nodded. I had let my cover slip. “He begged me to ask for your help and I promised I would.”
A long silence followed. “How old is he?” Stan asked.
“He’s just turned twelve.”
“Darn near an adult,” Una said.
“Outside of taking him in, there’s a limit to what we can do for this poor chap,” Stan said. “I could give him a job after school and on weekends. Would that help?”
I nodded. “But they might take his money.”
“Do you want us to adopt him?” Mary asked. I shook my head vigorously but added nothing further. “What if we found him another place,” she added, “further away from downtown and closer to the plant.”
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