I must have dozed off, because suddenly a voice was calling my name.
“Willow?” Axel was shaking me.
I sat up, blinked, and rubbed my eyes.
“I hate to wake you, but … ”
“What now?”
“Someone’s waiting on the barge for you.”
“Who is it?”
“Um … it’s your mom.”
“My mom!” Jesus, was there no end? “What’s she doing there?”
“I don’t know… . She said she wants to talk to you.”
“God—you told her I was here?”
“What did you want me to do? Tell her you ran off to Antarctica with your penguin?”
“Oh, shit! I just don’t need her drama on top of everything else.”
“She didn’t seem too dramatic to me.”
“Yeah, that’s her big act. She’s all nice to everyone else, and they all think I’m crazy. They don’t know what she’s like.”
“Well, she’s here. So do you want to go there, or do you want her to come here?”
I grabbed Axel’s arm. “Does she know?”
“I don’t think so… . How could she?”
“Maybe the police called her … or Aunt Agatha… .”
“No. Agatha would tell you first. And you put Agatha down as your guardian on the forms. I doubt they’d call anybody else.”
“I hope you’re right.” I took a breath. “Okay. I guess … bring her here. I haven’t been back on the barge since—since Sunday. I can’t deal with going back there and her at the same time. And can you get Aunt Agatha to come with her, too?”
“Sure.”
While Axel went to go get them, I got dressed. I wasn’t as freaked out about Mom as I normally would be. I was already numb from Axel’s revelations.
After I was dressed and cleaned up, I sat at the table, waiting. Then Axel climbed back on the boat and came into the cabin. Aunt Agatha, who gave me a big hug, came next.
“Don’t worry, love. She’s not that bad today,” she whispered in my ear.
Then came Mom, clomping down the galley steps in her clogs. She always wore clogs, whether they were in fashion or not. Usually, they weren’t.
She also wore her usual humongous straw hat with a scarf tied underneath her chin and her oversized black sunglasses.
As Aunt Agatha always said, The Contessa had arrived.
“Willow,” she said. That’s what she always said. Never hello or anything. Like how are you might kill her or something.
“Hi, Mom,” I said.
She sat down next to me and planted a cold kiss on my cheek—and I do mean cold. Her lips and skin were always chilly. It was like her blood didn’t run warm like the rest of ours.
She smelled like a big ol’ vitamin. It made sense that she excreted the smell. She took, like, thirty supplements a day. She was practically a slave to her vitamin schedule. It was funny how she could keep track of all that but somehow couldn’t remember to pick me up from school until I’d been waiting for two hours with the custodians.
“I met your boyfriend on the barge,” she said, talking about Axel like he wasn’t standing right there, only two feet away.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I said.
“Hmpf,” she said, meaning that she wasn’t surprised.
“So what’s up, Mom? How’s Steve?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Can we have a little privacy?”
I looked at Axel and Aunt Agatha, then back at Mom. I really wanted to say no, but why subject them to Mom’s theatrics?
“Fine,” I said, getting up.
She followed me into the bedroom. At least I had Falstaff, my faithful but silent companion. He seemed to be appraising Mom from his perch on the bed.
The best way to handle Mom was to expect nothing. Because that’s what I usually got.
“Well?” I asked. “What is it?”
She slid off the sunglasses and gave me her “pathetic” face. Except she looked slightly deranged with all that sunscreen caked on her skin.
“Steve left.”
“Really?”
“Don’t sound so happy about it.”
I tried to wipe the smile from my face.
“He said I needed help.”
No kidding.
“So I went to see a psychiatrist. He prescribed some medication.”
“Seriously?” Wow. What do you know? Steve wound up being a blessing in disguise.
“Yes. And so, since I’ve been on the medication, I’ve realized that I acted … shall we say erratic in the past.”
I nodded. Understatement alert.
“So what I’m trying to say is, when you come home, I’m going to try—I’m going to try to be a better mother to you.”
All right, that’s reaching. I mean, nature is nature. But still, if she wants to try …
“Would you like to say something to me?” she asked.
I wanted to say a lot of things to her, but she’d probably have slapped me.
“No.”
“How about you’ll try harder, too?”
I narrowed my eyebrows. “What do I have to try harder at? I’m always there, aren’t I? When I’m not thrown out to make way for boyfriends, that is.”
“That’s what I’m talking about: your surly attitude.”
Again, I could have said a lot to her. Like the fact that she was the one who’d made me this way, who’d shaped my attitude. Like the fact that it was more of a defense mechanism than a weapon against her. Like the fact that I’d love to let my guard down, but who felt like having her trample me one more time?
But I didn’t say anything because frankly, I had other things on my mind. Like the fact that a guy had beaten and almost raped me. Like the fact that my best friend had a habit of cutting into his chest and wrists with a razor blade.
With all that going on, dealing with Mom would have to be on hold until September. I could hardly wait.
“Let’s talk about it when I come home” was all I ended up saying.
“I thought I’d bring you home now. After all, you whined so much about leaving. By the way, that boy out there looks so familiar. I can’t place him, but … ”
“I can’t come home right now. Aunt Agatha needs me.”
“You didn’t believe in Agatha’s project when you got here.”
“Yeah, well, consider me converted.”
She pouted. “I thought we could spend some quality time together before school starts.”
Yeah, me, you, and your makeup, I thought.
“I’m not coming home, Mom.”
“And what if I insisted?”
I crossed my arms. “I’m not coming home, Mom. I’ll see you in September, just like you wanted it in June.”
She gave out a deep sigh. “Fine.”
“Are we done here?” I asked.
“I suppose,” she said.
“’Kay, then.” I brushed past her, heading for the door.
“Willow?”
I sighed. “Yes?”
“Are you going to give me a chance?”
Oh, for God’s sake. She wanted more attention.
Meanwhile, she hadn’t said a word about my bruises.
“Yes. Okay? I just have a lot going on right now.”
“I’m going to need your help, too.”
Yeah, what else was new?
“Everything will be great, in September. We’ll have our own nirvana.”
“Nirvana. That’s one of those bands in your room, isn’t it? I think that boy looks like one of those people in your posters. Is he in Nirvana?”
“No, he’s not in Nirvana. Axel’s not in any band. He plays the cello.” I really didn’t feel like getting into it all with her.
“You’re kidding.”
“No, I’m not. Aunt Agatha thinks he’s excellent.”
“With that hair?”
God, she was so fucking judgmental in her huge hat and clogs. “What the hell d
oes hair have to do with playing the cello?”
She gave me her most sanctimonious look: “Nothing. Nothing at all.”
“Well, he is good.”
“I’m sure.”
She was so not sure, with that tone of hers. Whatever. I had no time for that trap.
“Good to see ya, Mom.” I swung open the bedroom door, then sat back down at the galley bench.
Mom followed me out into the galley. “Are you sure I can’t convince you?”
“Ciao, Mom.” She loved to speak Italian, but she hated it when you beat her to it.
“Arrivederci, Willow,” she said, giving me another frozen peck. She nodded to Aunt Agatha, then gave Axel a funny look.
“Maroon Five?” she asked, bringing up another group that she thought Axel might play in.
“Good-bye, Mom.”
“Matchbox Twenty?” She tried again.
I shook my head no.
She started clonking up the steps when something occurred to me.
“Hey, Mom. You never knew any of the names of groups before. And you never looked at my posters. You barely came into my room because you couldn’t stand all those freaks, I believe the term was. So what gives? Have you been hanging in my room?”
She turned with a kind of guilty look. “Well, Steve liked to listen to your stereo.”
Yuck! “Mom! You had sex in my bed?”
Holy cow, I couldn’t believe I’d blurted that out. But I really couldn’t believe what had gone on in my room.
She didn’t deny it! I thought I might hurl.
“I expect a new mattress, comforter, pillow … the works!” I shouted after her.
Axel looked mortified at the whole conversation. Aunt Agatha looked like she was going to burst with the laughter she was holding back. And Mom looked strangely proud of herself as she clonked on the last step and went out.
“The Doors, Mom. He looks like the guy from the Doors. It’s the biggest fucking poster in my whole room,” I hollered after her, just to show that I knew more than she did about my posters.
“And I want a lock, too! With a dead bolt!”
Those were my parting words. I must have turned completely purple. At least that’s how I felt.
“You shouldn’t allow her to get to you like that,” Aunt Agatha said.
“Oh my God! She had sex on my sheets! That’s so gross!”
“You have a point,” she said, obviously remembering her promise to listen without comment.
“Well, dear heart, I’ve got to go back to the barge. I’ve got a few people working there, thanks to darling Axel.” She blew him a kiss. “I have to show them a couple of things, then head out for my matinee.”
We both stood up, and she gave me another hug. “The couch is being delivered today. Will you two come tonight? I miss you, love.”
“Yeah, we’ll be there,” I said. “Right, Axel?”
He nodded.
She started up the ladder. “Toodle-oo, chums.”
“Bye, Aunt Agatha.”
Axel gave her a wave.
“So what did your mom say?” Axel asked, when Aunt Agatha had left.
“Her boyfriend’s gone, and she’s on medication. She wants to be a better mother to me.”
“That’s cool.”
“Yeah, except she didn’t notice anything was wrong: she didn’t even notice my bruises, and she didn’t even ask how I was or what I’d been up to all summer. All she wanted was company now that Steve’s gone. She just came to get me for companionship. My name might as well be Lassie.”
He laughed. “Sit, girl, and I’ll make us something to eat. But sorry, but I’m fresh out of kibble.” He laughed again and went to work at the stove.
Soon he turned back to me, saying, “Close your eyes.” Axel was holding a plate behind his back.
“Why?”
“Just do it!”
I heard the sound of plate meeting table. “Okay,” he said.
I opened my eyes and found a big steaming smiley-faced pancake looking back at me.
“Awww! How cool is that?” I was truly touched. My mom hardly ever made me breakfast, let alone anything like this. “Thanks, Axel.”
“It’s a reminder for you to smile.” He sat with a stack of pancakes for himself. “And I see that it worked.”
“Why don’t you have one?”
“Who makes themselves a happy-faced pancake? That’s borderline pathological.”
“Then I’ll make you one.” The bench scraped as I pushed it back and stood.
“No, no. Yours will get cold.”
“I don’t care. Your pancakes sat while you made mine, didn’t they? And I just can’t be happy alone.” With that, I put my hand to my chest and belted out a Broadway show song I hadn’t thought of in years. It was called “I Want to Be Happy,” and it was about the person singing not being able to be happy until the person they were serenading was happy, too.
Good lord, I couldn’t even blame it on alcohol this time. Something about Axel made me sing.
“O-kay. Go ahead, then. I can’t argue with that,” Axel said, with eyebrows raised.
I dished the eyes, nose, and mouth out on the griddle with a spoon. So far, so good, considering I’d never actually made a pancake before.
“Where’d you learn that showstopper?”
“My aunt played in a musical a long time ago—No, No, Nanette. I used to listen to the CD over and over, when I was, like, eight. Would you like to hear the “Where Has My Hubby Gone Blues”?
“I’ll pass,” he said with a laugh.
I poured the rest of the batter around the face. It stayed round—except for the right upper corner, where the batter veered out of bounds. Way out of bounds.
I served Axel his grinning pancake. A frown might have been more appropriate, with that huge lump on its head. It was like someone had bonked it good with a hammer.
“Sorry about that.”
Axel smiled. “It’s perfect.”
* * *
We were kicking back, eating pancakes and joking around, when Beethoven’s Fifth rang out from Axel’s phone.
He looked at the number on his cell. His face clouded. He didn’t have to tell me who it was.
“Don’t answer it,” I said.
“I have to.” He flipped the phone open. “Yeah,” he said, down an octave. He mouthed “be right back” to me and climbed up to the deck.
I sat and swirled pieces of pancake through syrup on my plate, waiting. But Axel still didn’t come back down. What were they talking about?
Finally, I went topside to check on him.
Axel was leaning against the outside of the railing, staring out at the water. He was in exactly the same spot where I’d first seen him when I first arrived at the boatyard.
That bitch had drained the life right out of him, quicker than any blade ever could.
He didn’t see me coming, and when I touched his shoulder, he flinched. Then he turned around and fell into my arms.
There was so much I wanted to say. But sometimes silence says it all.
The barge loomed across the water from us. Ugly memories sprang into my mind: being beaten and throttled on the couch, coming within seconds of violation, thinking I was about to die… .
We just stood there, silent on the deck in the sun, our skin baking and our insides raw. It felt like hope was the only thing left to laugh at, and I doubted Axel had the strength for even that.
* * *
“I told her not to call again,” he finally said. “But I don’t know if she’ll listen. It’s all just a game to her.”
He was right: she was the cat, and he was the mouse, cornered in his hole.
“I still say you should tell someone… .”
“Forget it. That’s not how it works in my world,” he said sharply.
I pulled away from him, wounded by his harsh tone.
“I’m sorry, Willow. Let’s … let’s just forget her. Let’s just let her go, and then she won’t
be able to hurt us. Okay?”
I nodded, wanting so badly to accept that this strategy could work.
“Leave her to heaven, huh?” I asked, even though I was hoping for the other place.
“Exactly,” Axel said.
26
To Thine Own Self
“Here’s the deal,” I told Axel. We were back in the galley, where I was cleaning the dishes. He was just kind of slumped at the table. I went on: “I’ll talk to that counselor if you go to therapy.”
“I don’t know… . ” I could barely hear him over the running water.
“Axel, what’s not to know? You said you needed to deal with … your problem.” I clinked a dish against another as I put it in the rack, because I was busy looking at Axel.
“I don’t feel like talking to anyone—” his voice broke off.
“We’re all hurting, Axel. There’s no shame in showing where you’re wounded.” I shut the water and started drying.
“Okay, okay. I’ll make some calls tomorrow. Find myself a head-shrinker. Happy?”
“Yeah.” And I was.
I took a shower, and then we headed off back to the barge. Axel carried my suitcase and a duffel bag with his stuff in it slung over his shoulder. We left Falstaff behind to act as the official watch-bird of the boat.
As we rounded the dock and got closer to the barge, I started to feel like things were flying around and around inside my stomach. Not butterflies, but bigger. Like bats, maybe.
I stopped walking.
“What’s the matter?” Axel asked.
“I thought I could go back, but … ”
He dropped the bags down and hugged me. “You’re not alone. I’m here”
“I know … I’m not being rational. And Craig’s in jail, for God’s sake.”
He rubbed the back of my neck, trying to calm me down.
“What happened to you was irrational. It’s only natural that your response would be irrational, too. You just have to go in there and conquer the fear. Once you do that, you’ll feel better.”
I took three huge breaths in and out.
“Okay.”
We went to the ladder. I hesitated, then climbed up slowly. When I got to the top, I suddenly felt dizzy and nauseated. It felt like ten years for Axel to inch his way up the rungs with the bags. I glanced from the top of the ladder to the door and back repeatedly and kept imagining Craig busting through the door.
Saved By The Music Page 16