I didn’t say anything until we were in my room. We both looked at the door. Would I close it? “You can close it,” I said.
He hesitated. “Maybe your grandfather wouldn’t like that.”
“Oh, give me a break, Aaron Podwell!” I cried, and shut the door myself. “You don’t have to worry about what you’ll be, Aaron. You’ll be governor or something.”
He smiled weakly. “Why do you say that?”
“You’re a natural politician, as smooth as sleet on a country road,” I added, which was one of Myra’s expressions.
He lost his smile, now either feigning that he was hurt or really feeling hurt. I couldn’t tell. “I was only trying to do my best for you, for us,” he protested. “I thought you would be pleased. You think I like wearing this suit? Even my mother was shocked when she saw me leaving the house. It’s my family straitjacket. Jeez, Clara Sue. I spent twenty minutes getting this tie knot perfect. I figured your grandfather would notice.” He flopped into a chair as if I had pounded him with a sledgehammer. However, the fog of suspicion didn’t lift from my eyes.
“You never told me you were interested in sports medicine and that sort of thing. Where did that come from?”
“Yeah, well, I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.” He rose and walked around my room, looking at my pictures and posters, and then sat on my bed and loosened his tie. “I like the nurse. She’s not bad-looking, either. Maybe I can get her to come over to my house to give me a bath,” he added, smiling licentiously. That was more like the Aaron Podwell I knew.
“Be careful what you wish for,” I said.
He reached out for me. “I’m wishing only for you,” he said. “C’mon. Loosen up. I’m going to get those chains off you.”
I sat next to him, and he kissed me quickly.
“The first step to make my dream come true,” he said. “Nice bed.” He ran his right hand over my top sheet with his eyes closed and that smile still blooming on his face. “Now I can better picture you dreaming about me.”
“You’re not just conceited, you’re convinced,” I said.
He laughed. He continued to run his fingers along the bed and to my skirt, lifting it a little above my knee. “You look more delicious than any of the food tonight.”
“I look better than food? Thanks.”
“Hey, I’m trying to be romantic. I could live on a deserted island for weeks on just bread and water and you.”
“Boy, do you know how to get yourself out of trouble,” I said.
“If you’re trouble, I don’t want to ever get out.”
He surprised me by leaning down and kissing the inside of my thigh. No other boy had ever done that. I hadn’t even imagined it, but the sensation it sent up my thighs was so fast and hot that it took my breath away. He looked up at me, smiled, and kissed me again, only higher up, moving my skirt as he did. I had been bracing myself with my hands flat against the bed. My arms weakened when he kissed me a third time, again higher, and when I fell back on the bed, he moved to kiss me between my thighs. I couldn’t smother the moan. He sat up and leaned over to kiss me on the lips. The fingers of his left hand slipped under my panties. If there was any protest in me, he drove it back with another, longer, more demanding kiss. I felt my whole body soften.
“We can’t,” I managed, the words reluctant to be spoken.
“I know,” he whispered, kissing my ear softly and then my cheek before finding my lips.
His fingers were touching me. I didn’t pull away. I lifted myself toward them. He took a deep breath when we heard footsteps in the hallway. I turned sharply and quickly away from him.
“I know what I’ll dream about tonight,” he said with a moan, and lay on his back.
I quickly straightened out my skirt and sat up. The footsteps stopped. It was either Myra or Grandpa going to Willie’s room.
“Sorry,” I said.
He groaned, rose, and went into my bathroom. While he was in there, I went to one of my windows and looked out at the driveway and the gate, at the lights and the stars. Every time I was with Aaron, I felt myself moving closer and closer to that moment. I wasn’t totally blinded by the light in his eyes and the passion raging inside me. How do you decide when and with whom to do it? Very likely, there was someone else out there for me when I grew older. Aaron was going off to college next year. Even if we vowed to be faithful to each other and Aaron was as sincere as I was, there was so much out there that would challenge such a promise. I knew that.
What if he found someone else while he was in college? And what if I found someone else when I went to college? Would it matter to whoever fell in love with me that I wasn’t a virgin? Would his view of me change enough to diminish his feelings for me? Would I regret having given myself to someone who would not mean that much to me years from now? Did my mother have these thoughts when she was my age? When did she lose her virginity? Was it with my father?
It wasn’t enough to talk about it with other girls, even Lila. Deep inside, I was skeptical of anything any of them said. We were competing with one another too much for male attention, whether we would admit it or not. Everyone would lie or embellish just to look more sophisticated. My mother was the only other woman I could trust, and she was gone.
Everyone thought that losing your parents was the worst for you when you were young, but that wasn’t true. I had never needed my mother as much as I needed her right now. I took a deep breath and nodded to myself. What decisions you make, Clara Sue Sanders, you really make yourself from now until forever. You have lost the luxury of being able to blame someone else. That was really what becoming an adult meant. Why were we all so eager for that to happen?
I turned when I heard Aaron coming out of the bathroom. He looked like he had washed his face in cold water, even his hair.
He shook his head at the surprise on my face. “I felt like a stick of dynamite with a lit wick,” he said, and laughed.
“Sorry.”
“Okay,” he said, slapping his hands together and rubbing his palms. “I have a plan.”
“Plan? For what?” Did he mean our making love? When and where?
“For the investigation, silly. I want to help you discover who he is, where he’s from, and what happened to him so you can get rid of him,” he replied, as if it was obvious. “That’s why I was doing all that downstairs.”
“Is that what you were doing?”
“Of course. I thought you could see that. I was winning his trust. That’s what we’ll do together. We’ll do a lot better than the psychiatrist and the nurse,” he said. He lay back against one of my oversized pillows. “I’ll be over more often, too, and when we can do it, we’ll take him for some rides or something, so we get as much private time with him as we can, see? We just won’t be obvious about our reasons. We’ll just come off as sincerely concerned about him. He’ll believe it, too, and he’ll open up.”
“Aren’t you the schemer,” I said.
“Who isn’t? Even him, maybe. You thought that was possible, didn’t you?”
“I don’t know about that anymore.”
He smiled. “See? He’s winning you over, too.”
“He’s not winning me over. Dr. Patrick says he can’t be that clever at that age, and I think she knows a little more about it than you do.”
“Don’t believe it. I was that conniving at his age, especially when it came to handling my mother or getting my father to loosen up the rules. I still am. How do you think I got my new car so soon?”
“Don’t you think that’s wrong? They’re your parents, your family.”
“What’s wrong? Getting what you want?” He raised his arms.
“It’s like lying to them, Aaron.”
“It’s the American way,” he said, and laughed. Then he looked at his expensive watch and leaped up.
“What now?�
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“We’d better go down so your grandfather can show me his pictures and plaques. He said he wants me to tell my father all about them. I know why, even though I’m playing innocent.”
I looked up at him as he smiled wryly at me. I wanted to do everything he was suggesting, but I felt guilty about it now. Surely my Count Piro was betrayed by people who should have loved and protected him. If we did something like that to him, too, we might hurt him beyond repair.
And yet even having these feelings of conscience made me feel even guiltier, for after all, I was not thinking of Willie. Wasn’t it my original purpose to get Count Piro out of our lives because it kept us from mourning Willie as we should?
Aaron was probably right. We could make more progress with Count Piro than my grandfather, Dorian, or even Dr. Patrick. It was so much easier to fool children, because the world looked so simple to them. There were good things and bad, ugly and beautiful, bitter and sweet, and never once until they were old enough to understand could they imagine anything being both. Black and white turned to gray. Hesitation and distrust were born with the loss of innocence.
My eyes brightened with a thought.
Maybe all that had already happened to my Count Piro. Maybe he wasn’t terrified by memories as much as he was terrified of what was in the future. Once he felt safe, he would tell everything.
“Don’t look so serious, Clara Sue. It makes people suspicious,” Aaron said, reaching for my hand to lead me out of my bedroom.
I rose and followed Aaron down to Grandpa, who, despite his success and his power, was unaware of the deception Aaron was creating right before his eyes.
“Well,” Grandpa said, perhaps surprised at the sight of us so soon. “Get the tour, did you?”
“A little. I think the layout of your house is much smarter than ours,” Aaron said. “Our guest bedrooms are very close to my sister’s, mine, and my parents’ bedrooms. Not that we have that many guests,” he quickly added. “Dad has this big sign up in the entryway. ‘Guests and fish smell in three days. Benjamin Franklin.’ ”
Grandpa laughed. “Very wise. My office is just down here,” he said, rising and pointing to the right. Aaron took my hand again, something that Grandpa didn’t miss, and we followed him out.
Was Aaron right? Was my grandfather showing him all this just because of his constant competition with Aaron’s father? There was talk occasionally of my grandfather running for mayor of Prescott, and almost every time I had heard that, Aaron’s father was mentioned as another possible candidate.
Aaron was so good at his reactions that I couldn’t tell if he really was impressed with my grandfather’s pictures of famous Virginia politicians, U.S. senators, and Navy officers. Grandpa had chamber of commerce awards, letters and plaques, and a national Better Business Bureau award. And then there were his pictures with famous baseball players and one with his favorite movie actor, Humphrey Bogart. And of course, there were the trophies for the landscape award. Grandpa had to mention that Aaron’s father hadn’t won one yet.
“He thinks he will this year,” Aaron said. “He’s been planning on some dramatic changes on the property.”
“Is that so?” Grandpa said. “We’ll see.”
Aaron looked at his watch. “I’d better get going. My sister’s coming home for Thanksgiving a little early, and we’re kind of close. I’d never admit it, but I miss her.”
“That so?” Grandpa said. His admiration for Aaron seemed to have no limit.
“Yes, sir. Thanks for showing me all this, Mr. Arnold, and thanks for inviting me to dinner.”
“You’re welcome,” Grandpa said.
I walked Aaron out.
“Your grandfather isn’t as tough as you think,” he said when we were at his car. “Anyone who wants to help a little boy like that has soft spots, Clara Sue.”
“Don’t underestimate him, Aaron. Those who do regret it.”
Aaron looked a little taken aback. Despite everything Grandpa had done that upset me, I had to come to his defense, and quickly, too. Actually, I didn’t like deceiving him.
“I’ll be careful,” Aaron said. “I’ll call you in the morning to see if the chains have been taken off you since my political performance. Maybe we’ll go to a movie or something.”
He kissed me quickly and got into his car. He looked so confident and, for a moment, unattractive. I watched him drive off and then lowered my head and started to walk back into the house.
I looked up quickly when Grandpa said, “Very polite young man.”
“Yes,” I said.
“Hard to believe he’s Lester Podwell’s son, but sometimes the apple does fall far from the tree, especially if the tree’s at the top of a hill.” I knew he was really thinking more about Uncle Bobby.
“Everyone should be his or her own person, Grandpa.”
“Hmm,” he said. “I like how he was with William. Seeing other young people could help him recuperate faster. When he’s more able, you and Aaron might do some things with him, even if it’s just around here.”
I stared at him. He was walking right into Aaron’s plan. Why didn’t I feel happier about it?
“Anyway, your punishment’s over, but don’t let something like that happen again,” he warned, and returned to his office.
I started up the stairs. The door to Willie’s bedroom was slightly ajar, but the room was dark. I didn’t pause to look in at Count Piro. When I got to my bedroom, I flopped onto my bed and looked up at the ceiling.
As I lay there thinking, I felt as if the burden of all my rage had slipped away. Ever since Willie’s death, I clung to anger. It was a shield, helping me block any other emotion from taking hold of me. I still wanted to keep sadness at arm’s length, leave it outside my door if I could, but what I hadn’t expected to feel so strongly right now was guilt.
Aaron’s sudden interest and determination were putting me off when I should have been encouraged by them. I had my ally, someone in whom I could confide all my troubled feelings, someone who would sympathize and understand my feelings and resentments, didn’t I? He was better than Lila, who, deep down, wasn’t really that concerned. Yet the way I had come to my grandfather’s defense just before seemed to open another door, one I had been ignoring.
Despite everything that was happening, I really didn’t like conspiring against my family, against those who loved me in this house. It even bothered me now to take advantage of Dorian Camden. Yet Aaron was planning that we would go behind Grandpa’s back and work on Count Piro until we had the information that would send him away.
But if Count Piro was blocking out his memory of his family and where he came from, even if he was pretending to do that, how horrible must that be? How would I feel if the people who had done this to him drove up here one day and took him away, mainly because of what we had forced him to remember? And there was nothing Grandpa could do about it, either. Would I feel better, successful, happier?
I recalled something My Faith was fond of saying: “God’s in his heaven, all’s right with the world.” Once I overheard Myra ask her what she thought that really meant. Without hesitation, My Faith said, “God’s watching over us, but he’s not down here making us do the right thing. We’ve got to do that ourselves and just know he’s watching us.”
Myra hadn’t replied, but I had thought more about it and was thinking about it now.
God didn’t stop that pickup driver from killing Willie, and even if the pickup driver ended up in hell, it wouldn’t bring Willie back.
And even if Aaron and I found out the truth about Count Piro, that wouldn’t bring Willie back.
His room would be empty again.
All would not be right with the world.
17
Aaron was surprised at my lack of enthusiasm when he called me the following morning.
“Are you all right?”
he asked.
I was in such deep thought when my phone rang that I didn’t hear it until the third ring. I was sure he asked how I was because my “hello” sounded like that of someone who was under hypnosis.
“Yes. Just a little tired. I didn’t sleep that well.”
“Because you were dreaming of me?”
“No. I didn’t sleep enough to dream.”
“Sorry. We’ll have to do something about that. I was thinking I would come over.”
“Not today. I have too much homework to leave for Sunday night, and I’ve got to make significant progress on my history term paper. Fortunately, my grandfather has some books I can use in his library.”
“Sounds like a perfect way to ruin a Saturday. Are you sure? It’s nice out. Maybe they’ll let us wheel the kid around the property or something, and we can pry the truth out of him.”
“Not today,” I said, my words as final as death itself.
“Okay. You still want to go out tonight, though, don’t you? We have plans to make for the immediate future.”
“I don’t think so. My grandfather is thinking of getting our Christmas tree today. It was always a big thing for all of us to decorate it,” I said. “We’ll be doing it all day and tonight. We always had a little pre-Christmas dinner when we finished the tree.”
“We’ve never done that. My mother gets it delivered all done by some decorator.”
“How cold,” I said. I didn’t mean to say it so critically.
“Yeah, I guess,” he said. “I’ve always been more interested in presents, anyway, and barely noticed the tree, but maybe I should come over to help you with yours. It’ll give me an appreciation for what I’ve missed.”
I didn’t say yes.
“But I imagine it’s something you want to do with your grandfather,” he added after my silent response.
“This time, more than ever, I think,” I said.
“Sure. I understand,” he said, his voice dropping off with the weight of disappointment and clearly indicating that he didn’t understand or didn’t want to understand. “Well, maybe I’ll catch you tomorrow, and we can do some planning then. I mean, you can’t be doing homework all day Sunday, too, right?”
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