My Sister Rosa

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My Sister Rosa Page 26

by Justine Larbalestier


  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  When I get home I knock on the study door. There’s so much I have to ask David about Rosa. He calls me in.

  He’s on the phone. His brow is all ridges and his mouth a tight line. It’s the look he has when he’s trying not to lose his temper. I’m tempted to leave it for later. I do not want to see David lose his temper.

  ‘I understand,’ he repeats.

  I look at my phone, because it feels rude to listen. I reply to Georgie, but don’t tell her exactly what happened. I don’t think I can sum up what Rosa did to Seimone in a few texts. Nazeem got an A+ on an essay about why this generation of Aussie teens don’t drink as much as previous generations. I congratulate him. I text Leilani to get her version of what’s happening with Rosa and Seimone. No reply. I wonder if she’s at the counselling session as well.

  I text Sojourner. —I miss you already.

  I don’t care how sappy that is. I do miss her. I won’t get to see her for hours.

  ‘What did you want, Che?’ David asks. Though I have no idea how what I want could be a mystery.

  ‘Is this a bad time?’

  ‘Yes. But I can make time for you. You know that.’

  I don’t know that.

  ‘I want to talk more about Rosa.’

  David nods.

  I want to know why he didn’t tell me he knew. I want to know if David has a plan.

  ‘What do we do about Rosa?’

  ‘We do what we have been doing. We let her know when what’s she’s done is unacceptable. I spend a lot of time reminding her that if she can’t pass as normal her life will be miserable.’

  ‘I’ve been recording our conversations.’

  David stares. ‘Yours and Rosa’s?’

  I nod.

  ‘If we played them to a psychiatrist, if they could listen to her casually talking about not caring, about how she finds it interesting when people are in pain, that she enjoys messing with them – they’d see what she is straight away.’

  ‘They will. But then what?’

  I don’t know.

  ‘We have a practical problem. How do we minimise the harm Rosa does? We can’t cure her. There is no cure. All we can do is containment.’

  ‘So we give up?’

  ‘I didn’t say that. It could be worse. I’ve seen it be a lot worse.’

  ‘Your brother or Papa?’

  ‘Both of them. That’s how I knew what Rosa was. I’ve lived with this before.’

  ‘They’re worse than Rosa?’

  ‘Why do you think I’ve kept this family as far from them as I could? I didn’t want Saul or Papa anywhere near Rosa.’

  I have a moment of dizziness. We are talking about Rosa, about psychopathy, about this family.

  ‘I’ve read some studies that say empathy can be taught.’

  ‘It’s too late for Rosa.’

  I stare at David. ‘How can you be sure? There must be a psychiatrist or therapist or someone who can help her.’

  ‘How does Rosa respond to people trying to change her? Remember the last few times we took her to doctors?’

  I do.

  ‘She gamed them,’ David says. ‘She figured out what they wanted her to say, then said it until they said she didn’t have to go back anymore.’

  I should feel happy hearing my own thoughts voiced by David. I’m not. ‘You think there’s no hope?’

  ‘I didn’t say that. We’re teaching her how to be normal. We’ve been doing that for years. Rosa doesn’t think the way most people do, but she knows what could happen if other people realise that. She’s become good at acting.’

  ‘Too good,’ I say.

  David shakes his head. He’s leaning forward, his office chair tilting with him, his elbows resting on his knees. ‘Sometimes pretending to be something you’re not can change you. The pretence can become real.’

  ‘You believe that?’

  ‘I know it. When I first met Sally I was out of control. I did some terrible things back then.’

  I know this. It’s part of family lore. I know he ran a high-stakes poker game at his fancy private school, that he wiped out several of the richest students. That’s not what got him expelled. Breaking another student’s jaw did that.

  ‘I wanted to impress Sally, be her crazy wild man. I thought she liked that side of me. But it scared her. Back then I was terrified she was going to leave me.’

  He shrugs briefly, almost apologetically, as if I don’t know how much he loves her.

  ‘I started consciously being more like her. I went to anger management classes like she wanted me to. You’ve never seen my temper, Che. That’s why. I modelled myself on Sally. Did what she did, said what she said. I stopped getting into fights. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I have so much rage. It burns in me and the urge to let it go, to raze everything – sometimes I have to run to get away from it. I can’t stay in the same room, the same city, the same country as it.’

  ‘Doesn’t it travel with you?’

  David shakes his head, then nods. ‘Not when I’m with Sally. She’s shown me how to outrun it. I changed. The anger burns less intensely now. How many times have you seen me lose my temper?’

  I haven’t. ‘I’ve seen you not losing your temper. Your face tightens. I can see you fighting it.’

  ‘It’s a struggle.’

  ‘Rosa doesn’t have a temper. Not since she was little.’ I try to imagine Rosa changing. I can’t. ‘You aren’t Rosa. You care what people think. You cared what Sally thought. That’s why you changed. Rosa doesn’t care – you should hear some of the things she’s said to me. I’ll play them for you.’

  David straightens up on the chair, pushing it back a little, all his intensity gone.

  ‘No need. I’ve heard what she says. Our job is to make it clear to Rosa that passing as normal is her only choice. She knows being diagnosed reduces her chances of getting away with anything. Maybe acting normal will change her. I changed.’

  I want to believe him. ‘We’re not professionals. These are big decisions we’re making. Shouldn’t we at least get advice from someone who knows more than we do? If we take her to someone who’s worked with young…’ I pause at the label. I haven’t called her a psychopath in front of David yet.

  ‘What’s a formal diagnosis going to achieve, Che?’

  ‘A professional will help us understand our choices.’

  ‘What do you think will happen to Rosa once she’s labelled? She hasn’t broken any laws. She’s ten years old. If we get her tested, what will those tests prove? Say they confirm what you think – then what?’

  ‘She’s a psychopath. Isn’t it our duty to protect people from her?’

  ‘You can’t call a ten-year-old a psychopath. How do you think people will treat her once they know? What school will take her? Will she have to go to a school for other disturbed children? What will she learn from kids like her?’

  I don’t know.

  ‘The best we can do is to keep her under control and make her aware of the consequences of doing what she wants to do. Containment is our only option.’

  But we haven’t contained her, have we? We’ve let the virus that is Rosa contaminate Apinya and now Seimone.

  That afternoon at the gym Sojourner kisses me when she sees me and slides her hand into mine. We really are a thing. Thoughts of Rosa and my fucked-up relatives slide away.

  Jaime laughs. ‘Resolved your religious differences, did you?’

  ‘We good,’ Sojourner says.

  ‘Very,’ I say.

  Jaime makes vomiting noises.

  We work out together and spar together. There are long moments when I don’t think about my sister.

  The three of us walk home. I’m having dinner with them and Sojourner’s moms.

  ‘Hey, thanks for inviting Elon the other night,’ Jaime says. ‘We been hanging. Elon’s cool.’

  Elon is pretty much definitionally cool.

  ‘You know Leilani du
mped Veronica, right?’

  I shake my head. ‘Again?’

  ‘For real this time. Veronica’s drama-ing everywhere. Cut her wrists.’

  I stare.

  ‘Not very convincing, you know? More like a graze. But she’s weeping over Elon and they’ve known each other since they were goo-ing and gah-ing. She’s family. Elon’s gotta hold her up.’

  ‘Poor Elon.’

  ‘Truth.’

  ‘Don’t look at me,’ Sojourner says. ‘I don’t know Elon. Bring him to church, Jaime.’

  Jaime snort-laughs. I’ve learned that it’s a running joke that Jaime will never go to church.

  ‘There’s a protest on this Sunday. Me and Elon are fixing the world the direct way.’

  ‘That right?’

  Before they can argue I ask, ‘Your moms know we’re together, right?’

  I’m a bit nervous about this dinner.

  ‘Of course they know,’ Jaime says. ‘Sid tells them everything. No secrets in that home.’

  ‘You say that like it’s a bad thing,’ Sojourner says.

  ‘I never thought I’d miss the crazy Catholic everything’s-a-secret, children-should-be-told-nothing chaos that is living with my parents. But you guys totally overshare.’

  ‘We don’t!’

  ‘Girl, your mom talks about the colour and texture of her poop!’

  ‘She’s sick. It’s one of the signs of how she’s doing.’

  ‘Too much,’ Jaime says, shaking her hands out. ‘And your moms are way too noisy when they’re going at it. Least when my olds were together they had the decency not to do it anymore. Or if they did they were quieter than a mouse.’

  ‘Low bar. Mice round here are noisy.’

  ‘Whatever. I do not need to know. Olds shouldn’t be at it, anyways. Nasty. Your mom does not need to be in my business asking me about whether I’m using protection and whether I’m – what did she say? – oh, yeah, I remember, getting pleasured right. Oh. My. God. She was going to tell me about my clitoris. So embarrassing.’

  Sojourner laughs. I’m torn between wondering how Jaime manages not to blaspheme in front of Sojourner’s moms and laughter at how much her moms are like my parentals.

  ‘Wait. Does this mean they’re going to give me the third degree on whether I, um, pleasure you right or not?’

  Now Jaime’s laughing too. Both of them are egging each other on to louder and louder bursts of laughter.

  ‘They’ll probably ask you to draw a map to demonstrate that you know where the clitoris is.’

  Jaime is struggling to walk, she’s laughing so hard.

  ‘Oh, look,’ I say, waving my phone around. ‘My parents. They say I have to come home, right now.’

  Sojourner grabs my phone. ‘Nuh uh uh.’ She holds it out to Jaime. ‘Do you see any such message?’

  Jaime shakes her head. ‘I do not see any such message.’

  I clutch my stomach. ‘I think I have sudden-onset nausea.’ I turn and take a few steps in the opposite direction.

  Sojourner grabs my arm, Jaime the other.

  ‘Not so fast, Mister. There’s no escape from interrogation by the moms.’

  ‘Lesbians are the worst,’ Jaime says. ‘No shame, no boundaries. They’ll probably want to make sure your dick’s the right size too.’

  Sojourner snorts and mock punches Jaime. ‘Too far!’

  ‘She’s kidding, right?’ I’m pretty sure she’s kidding. ‘Right?’

  They crack up laughing again.

  We meet Diandra and Elisabeta at a Venezuelan restaurant. Elisabeta’s mother was from Venezuela. I eat arepas for the first time. I consume six to make sure the last one is as good as the first. The moms don’t say a single word about my penis. We don’t even talk about sex. We talk about politics, injustice, a demonstration they went to, Sojourner’s upcoming fight, what winter’s like in Sydney and whether a drinking age of twenty-one is stupid.

  Sojourner and I spend almost an hour saying goodnight, each last kiss leading to yet another one.

  I don’t tell her what Rosa did.

  I don’t think about what Rosa did.

  It’s past midnight when I get home. Sally is there. She and David are sitting at the island drinking wine together. They know I was out with Sojourner and Jaime and Sojourner’s moms, but I haven’t gone into any details about me and Sojourner yet.

  Sally puts her glass down and pulls me into a hug. ‘What a day – night and day – whatever it is. Are you okay?’

  ‘Yeah. You?’

  She answers by hugging me again. ‘I’m not sure. I can’t believe they would be so reckless. Seimone could have died!’

  I return the hug and open the fridge. It’s almost empty. No ham or cheese. I can’t see any proteins. I open the crisper and grab the last apple. It won’t go far. ‘No ham?’

  ‘Neither of us got a chance to shop,’ David says. ‘You’re welcome to do it tomorrow.’

  ‘Sure,’ I say, wondering how I’ll pay for it. ‘Is my credit card working again?’

  ‘I’ll give you cash.’

  I slide onto a stool and pour myself a glass of water.

  ‘Seimone believes it now,’ Sally says. ‘That peanuts can kill her.’

  If only Seimone believed Rosa can kill her.

  ‘How are Lisimaya and Gene?’

  ‘Shocked. I think the therapy was a good idea. I was just telling David it was a shame he couldn’t be there.’

  David doesn’t look like he thinks it’s a shame.

  ‘Someone has to keep working. We’re not far from launch.’

  ‘Ten months? Hardly close. You can give yourself a few hours off.’

  David waves Sally’s objections away. ‘I need to work.’

  ‘What did the counsellor say?’ I ask.

  ‘He was very practical. He made them both talk about what they thought they were doing. What outcomes they expected. If they thought about what would happen if it went wrong. If,’ Sally pauses, ‘if Seimone died.’

  I bet Rosa thought about it. ‘What did they say?’

  ‘They hadn’t thought that far, of course. They assumed their scheme would work.’

  ‘To be fair,’ David says, ‘it did. Seimone’s alive.’

  ‘True. But as the counsellor pointed out, irrelevant. You can’t base your decisions on the expectation of the best possible outcome. Especially if the worst outcome is death!’

  ‘How did they react to the counsellor making them think through what could have happened?’

  ‘Seimone was beside herself. She kept saying she didn’t want to die. Rosa was distraught.’

  I bet. Rosa probably modelled her tears on Seimone’s. Not that she isn’t capable of manufacturing them without mirroring these days.

  ‘Seimone’s taking it hard. That’s why Rosa’s there, comforting her.’

  Whispering poison in her ears.

  ‘I wanted Rosa to come home, but Seimone was almost hysterical at the idea. She’s spending another night over there.’

  ‘Is that wise?’ I ask before I can stop myself. Behind Sally, David shakes his head.

  ‘I think so,’ Sally says. ‘Seimone’s learned her lesson. Rosa too. They won’t try anything like that again.’

  No, I think. She’ll try something different.

  ‘You think they’ve both learned, just like that?’

  ‘Seimone almost dying was a huge shock.’

  Not to Rosa. ‘Will they be getting more counselling?’

  Sally nods. ‘The counsellor wants to talk to them more about how they should speak up when they think the other is going to do something she shouldn’t. Rosa should never have let things go that far. She should have told Seimone testing her allergy was wrong.’

  ‘She sure should have.’

  Sally cuts me a look, recognising my sarcasm.

  In my pocket my phone buzzes.

  —We need to talk about this, Leilani texts me. —Figure out what to do.

  ‘I’m knackere
d,’ I say.

  Our goodnights are more overwrought than usual. Sally hugs me twice.

  ‘I can’t help thinking about what would have happened if you hadn’t given her the adrenaline in time. Poor Rosa froze. Thank you, Che.’

  David shudders. I bite my tongue.

  Up in my room Leilani and I arrange to meet for breakfast.

  I crawl into bed and lie there staring at the car lights moving across the ceiling. I wish Sojourner were with me.

  At least I can be sure that whatever Rosa is plotting next, it won’t happen soon. She got away with almost killing Seimone – that’ll satisfy her for a while.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  I’m woken the next morning by Rosa knocking on my door. It’s grey outside, and not much light filters in.

  ‘Che!’

  ‘Just a minute,’ I say, wishing she’d go away.

  I get dressed and open the door. ‘When did you get home?’ ‘I don’t want you to violate my rights anymore,’ Rosa says, marching in and climbing onto my bed where she takes up a cross-legged position, resting the back of her hands on her knees like she’s going to meditate.

  I stare at her. ‘You what? Who’s sitting on whose bed, Rosa?’

  ‘You record our conversations.’

  It’s not what I expected her to say. I sit down on the floor.

  ‘How did you know?’

  ‘I heard you tell David.’ She’s looking at me the way she looks at an ant before she squishes it.

  ‘From behind a closed door. Super ethical, Rosa.’

  ‘I didn’t hide that I’d been listening.’

  ‘No, you didn’t sneak away in time. I opened the door before you were ready.’

  ‘You shouldn’t talk so loudly if you don’t want to be overheard. You always say you don’t lie, Che, but recording conversations without asking for permission – that’s lying. You acted like we were having normal conversations, but you were studying me as if I was a bug. You’re a liar.’

  ‘No, I’m not.’ I have a sickening feeling she’s right. ‘If you’d asked me if I was recording I’d’ve told you. Am I denying it now?’

  ‘Only because you know I know. You’re as sneaky as I am, Che. You’re like me. You’re just better at pretending you’re not.’

  ‘I’m nothing like you, Rosa.’

 

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