“Are you alright? Violet? Is that you?”
It was old Mr. Saunders. How he of all people had managed to spot them was beyond her, even to this day.
“Hi, Mr. Saunders,” she said quietly. “I’m fine. I was just playing.” She instinctively lied. Hopping up quickly, she ran away.
“Are you sure?” he called after her. “I think I should take you home and speak with your mother.”
“No,” she said, already almost across the asphalt. “No, it’s okay. My mom has a friend over. I was just playing. I’m okay. Thank you.”
Violet opened the door to her house slowly and quietly, waiting for her mother’s concerned voice to greet her on the other side. But there was nothing. She walked in further and heard her mother giggle from the backyard. A strange, horrible thought popped into Violet’s head. If she was still out there with those men, maybe her mom would have noticed she was gone and come to find her, screamed at the men to go away, rocked Violet in her lap.
Tears rolled down her cheeks and they alarmed her. Normally when she cried, she made a lot of noise and only a few drops went along with it. But she wasn’t sobbing. She didn’t want these tears to come out, no one was there to see them. What were they for?
She grabbed the banister of the stairs and slowly made her way to her bedroom. Each step stung and made her wonder if that man had torn her.
Gently, she laid herself down on her bed and touched her dress. She’d forgotten her underwear in the park. Her hands reached under her hemline, the way the man’s had but much slower and gently. Arriving at the top of her legs, she felt how wet it was down there from his spit. The worst was the grit. Grains of sand, all over and inside of her.
It burned when she went pee for the next few days, causing her face to scrunch up as bits of sand came out of her bit by bit. Violet was embarrassed. What if her mother saw? What would she say?
She thought about it every night when she was alone, but she never told her mother. Mr. Saunders never mentioned it either, to her or to Holly. From then on, Violet went to Mr. Saunders’ house periodically to leave a couple of flowers on his porch. Dandelions and daisies mostly.
She’d never talked about it with anyone. She’d filled in the blanks on her own now, and was glad Mr. Saunders had come before that man could do anything else with his belt. Constantly, she wished she could go back and sit on the bedside of that little girl that night. If only she could console her, tell her that wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. Explain why that man had wanted to shove his fingers inside her like she was a piece of meat he was testing for doneness.
Was it crazy that she knew Jeremy would never do that to her? It just wasn’t in his bones, she could tell. He would apologize the entire time, he would be so gentle that she could push him off. It wasn’t possible. He was insane in some ways, but not this one. She was almost sure of it.
Violet took note of her surroundings and let go of the velvet jacket that had started it all. It would not be a part of her costume; at least she had ruled that one out. Shuffling towards the door on her knees, Violet got out, stood up, and walked briskly back to her own room. She sat down on her bed. Smoothed the sheets. Put her hands between her thighs and left them there a moment to warm them.
16
Halloween came and went. Their costumes were ridiculous collaborations of prints and accessories found buried within the closet.
Jeremy had come home the day before armed with a pumpkin, carving knives, decorations and loads of candy. He left bowls of it around the house, each with a different treat inside.
At first, Violet wasn’t sure how she felt about sitting down and carving a pumpkin. It was something you did when you were comfortable and happy and warm. It was something you did at home. They shouldn’t do it here; they shouldn’t celebrate being kept. But by the time she told Ben about the costume closet, it was too late. His eyes lit up too brightly, and she wanted him to have this; a normal holiday, something to remind him of home.
So, they carved. A goofy pumpkin, nothing scary. Big long eyes with pupils of pumpkin, a crooked nose, a gaping smile with teeth akimbo. The classic sort of pumpkin you’d find on any given street, ten to a neighbourhood.
Ben had drawn the design and scooped out the guts, then set up the seeds to be roasted. While he did that, Violet looked inside. So many strings were left to ravage. She grated the scoop against the sides and tried to hollow it as best she could. When she finished, it was completely empty She wondered how close she herself was getting to that sort of emptiness.
No one came knocking on their door on Halloween night. They sat, the three of them in their costumes – Ben in a suit and tie ten sizes too large; Violet in a long, white dress with an enormous hat, feathers galore, and a cigarette holder; Jeremy in a purple velour jumpsuit. Violet had actually giggled at the sight of it, prompting Jeremy to give a spin.
Jeremy couldn’t remember ever liking Halloween so much.
As the clock crept closer to midnight, they knew no one would arrive. The only place any of their candy had gone was into their own mouths. Violet tried not to show her disappointment; Jeremy his relief.
For the next batch of mornings, the three of them woke as usual, stretched, ate some cereal and headed outside. Ben and Violet would sometimes go for walks, but more often they would help Jeremy with the yard work. Ben’s favourite jobs were to ride with Violet on the tractor mower or shuttle around the wheelbarrow.
On one particular day, Violet pruned the front garden. It didn’t feel like labour because Jeremy didn’t demand it of her. She enjoyed it more than sitting in front of the television all day, and it meant she got to be outside while staying in Jeremy’s good favour. She could see Ben playing out of the corner of her eye.
Jeremy was still working on the porch; sanding and levelling, hammering and sawing. It was almost as good as new.
What made that day different than all the rest began with a noise that perked up all three sets of ears, like prairie dogs in the desert. Tires on gravel, that’s what it was. It wasn’t something Violet or Ben heard very often, and when they did, it was Jeremy who was coming or going.
Jeremy recognized the truck as it came into view, winding its way up the driveway toward the house. It was his boss coming to check on the property.
Fast, sporadic bursts of blood shot through Jeremy’s veins. There was too much for Jeremy to process all at once. He would have to please his boss, update him about the renovations, while explaining why he had two helpers on the job who weren’t getting paid. He also had to ensure that Violet and Ben didn’t run straight into the car and be gone forever. And, if he could swing it, it might also be nice to extend the illusion that this was indeed his own property.
Jeremy had no idea what to say. He looked over at Violet, who was looking wild-eyed at Ben.
Fuck.
They were going to make a run for it. Of course they were, why wouldn’t they? Johnny was the first person to show up in weeks. Jeremy had still given them no indication of when they would be allowed to leave, and he didn’t plan on it any time soon. They would be crazy not to run.
Jeremy swallowed deep and squeezed out a smile. He knew he probably looked insane, but tried to keep his breathing steady. Time would pass; the situation would end; he could get through this.
He waved hello at the truck that had slowed to a stop. There was no time to say anything out loud to Violet or Ben before Johnny opened his car door, so Jeremy shot a desperate look that he hoped communicated everything he couldn’t say: Please don’t leave, I promise I’ll give you everything you need, just pretend you’re supposed to be here. Please don’t leave. It was a lot to convey in one look.
“Hi there Jeremy,” Johnny said as he walked towards the house. “Sorry to pop in like this, but it’s been awhile since I’ve heard from you. Just wanted to make sure everything was alright.” Johnny looked over at Violet and Ben. His eyes lingered on them.
Jeremy figured he’d better do as much talki
ng as fast as he could, to leave minimal airspace for Violet or Ben to cry out an SOS.
“Oh yeah, sorry about that,” Jeremy bumbled, “I’ve just been working away. I’m almost done the porch! There were some rotting beams but I took them all out. It won’t be long before I’m staining it.”
He searched his brain for a lie to explain the two extra bodies beside him.
“Sorry, I didn’t introduce you. This is Violet and Ben. They’re my cousins, they’re visiting from out of town. They didn’t have plans today, so I asked if they’d come give me a hand.”
It was then Jeremy realized that Violet and Ben were standing stock still and silent. There was no running, no screaming or yanking open car doors to slam shut behind them. No movement of any kind. He wondered if they were frozen in fear or if they were just waiting for the right moment to make their move.
“Pleased to meet you,” Johnny smiled first at Ben and then Violet. And then at Violet’s chest. She crossed her arms in front of her, but still she said nothing. She nodded at him instead.
When he began to see stars, Jeremy reminded himself to keep breathing.
“Yup, it’s been great to have them around. I’m getting three times as much done.” He was talking just to talk, to fill up the time before his boss would leave.
“Excellent,” Johnny said. “Well, I suppose I shouldn’t keep you. The porch looks great. I hope you all have a wonderful afternoon. Don’t work too hard,” he said, and then laughed because he was the boss and of course he wanted them to.
Violet was baffled as to why no words had come to her lips, why her legs hadn’t fled to the car. Was he safe? What could happen if they went with him? Something in her gut told her not to trust Johnny; the way his eyes grazed over her breasts made her uneasy. But then again, her gut had also told her she could trust Jeremy.
“Bye, thanks for the visit!” Jeremy said quickly. He found himself slowly able to exhale as Johnny turned and retreated to his car. His footsteps on the gravel were about ten times slower than Jeremy’s racing heart.
“Sure thing. Take care,” Johnny said before sealing himself into the vessel that could have taken both Ben and Violet to safety.
Making a three-point turn, he headed back down the driveway and drove off. The sound of the gravel under his tires returned. When it had completely faded away, Violet fell to her knees and began to sob.
17
What is wrong with you?
Violet asked herself the question over and over. Why hadn’t she said anything? Why hadn’t she screamed or started to cry a few moments earlier so that the man would have said, What’s wrong little lady? Please name the many ways that I can help you.
Ben was right there beside her; she wouldn’t have had to leave him behind, but she still couldn’t do it. If Jeremy had just turned his back, or gone inside to fetch something, the spell might have been broken and she could have found the right moment.
Violet had no idea who the man even was; Jeremy later told her he was a contractor who was working with him on renovating the house. She had no reason not to believe him. It shouldn’t have mattered who he was; anyone could have taken them home.
But that was the thing, maybe not just anyone could. No one ever came to visit that house. The man, Johnny, obviously knew Jeremy. What if he was in on it? What if he had been stopping by to check out the goods, to see if he might have any use for them, too? Maybe Violet in her garden gear getting her hands dirty turned him on.
Jeremy was many things, but physically cruel was not one of them. She had no idea if the same could be said for that other man. Besides, the last time she had gotten into a car with a stranger, look what had happened.
Ben hadn’t known what to think. He just stood there with his eyes stretched open as far as they would go. Violet wanted to cradle him in her arms after that, rock him back and forth, telling him how sorry she was for letting their potential rescuer drive away without them.
After the sound of the grinding gravel had faded away, no one said a word. Violet stayed on her knees with her hands over her face. Jeremy walked away.
He went to the backyard and picked a bouquet of flowers. Chrysanthemums, the only ones still blooming. He chopped their jagged ends into a sharp, diagonal line and put them in a vase filled with warm water. He carried it up the stairs and into Violet’s bedroom. He set them on her chest of drawers gently.
Jeremy wasn’t sure why she hadn’t said anything. A new feeling was racing from his heart and jolting through his body. Flowers wouldn’t be enough, but they were a start, the beginning of a very long thank you.
He turned away from the flowers and saw Violet standing in the doorway, blocking him.
“What are you doing in my room?” she asked. Hot flames flew out with her words, aimed directly at him. He had seen her like this only once before.
“I was just – I picked these flowers for you.” A measly hand gesture towards his offering.
“Why?” she asked icily.
“I wanted to say thank you.”
“Thank you?” He hadn’t known these words could invoke such fury. “Thank you? That’s what you wanted to say to me. Thanks because I kept my mouth shut? Because I didn’t run to that man and tell him we aren’t your cousins? That we’re two people you don’t even know, who you just grabbed off the street and stole out of our lives and into yours? Is that what you’re thanking me for?”
Jeremy didn’t know what to say besides the truth, which was, “Yes.”
“No way. No way Jeremy. You don’t get to thank me for that. I didn’t do it as a favour to you. I have no idea who that guy was, and I wasn’t about to hop in a car with him and risk him hurting me or Ben. I’m that fearful of people. Does that make you feel good about yourself? You made me scared of a man I don’t even know. Are you happy? Does it make you happy that I was too scared to say anything and get away from you?”
“No,” was the simple answer he gave with his head down.
“Good. Do you know what I think of your flowers?” She walked over to the dresser, grabbed the vase, held it up in front of her for a moment, and let it go. Glass shattered all over the hardwood floor and onto the little circular rug beneath her feet. The flowers looked defeated and dangerous amongst the liquid that raced to the corners of the room around the shards of glass.
Jeremy felt the water splash his leg. He was tempted to run and grab the broom and dustpan so that she wouldn’t cut her feet. But he needed to say something first.
“I didn’t mean for you to have to go through that,” he said. “I had no idea Johnny was coming today. He shouldn’t have shown up like that, and you shouldn’t have had to face that situation. But you dealt with it really well, so that’s why I wanted to say thank you.”
“Stop it!” So loudly. “Just stop with your thank yous! I don’t want your thanks. I didn’t do it for you! But if it meant so much, then tell me one thing. Tell me you’ll answer this one question.”
“I don’t know Violet, I can try, but I can’t promise –“
She didn’t care; she cut him off. “How long are you going to keep us here? It’s been months. What are you gaining? Why are we here? I asked you these questions forever ago, and I still haven’t gotten an answer. Don’t you think you owe us that? Instead of your stupid flowers, can’t you give me a thank you like that instead?”
“I’m not sure.”
“What do you mean you’re not sure? You mean you haven’t planned that far ahead? You’re not sure if you can tell us that you’re never going to let us go?” She paused and her face fell. “Jeremy, you have to let us go at some point. You know that, right?”
He looked her right in the eyes. “I know that. I know I can’t keep you here forever. It’s just… You won’t be going home today and you won’t be going home tomorrow.”
“So the day after that?”
“No.”
“The day after?”
“No.”
“Then when, Jeremy? When?! We w
ere here to be your little freaks for Halloween, we’ve been peaceful and helpful and obedient for months, what more do you expect from us before we leave?”
He couldn’t put his answer into words. It wasn’t an action or an end that he wanted out of them. It was the time itself, the time they spent in the house, even if they were doing nothing at all. That was what he wanted from them.
“A month from now,” he said. “That’s when I’ll let you go. One month.”
She jumped on this. “What day is it today?”
“November 19th.”
“So a month from now, on December 19th, you’ll let us go home?”
“Yes,” he said.
“We’ll be home for Christmas?” she asked hopefully.
“Yes,” again.
Her fury had faded. The rage had seeped out from her eyes, and the colour in her cheeks headed back down into a healthier rose.
“Can I tell Ben?” she asked. By this she meant, Can I actually count on this to happen, and tell Ben without getting his hopes up?
“Sure,” he said.
She decided right then that she wouldn’t. It would be too risky. Ben might start to ask questions, like why they had to wait a month, or how she knew that Jeremy would really let them go, or what would happen after he did. She didn’t know the answers.
Violet had been amazed at Ben’s willingness to submit to his captivity. Perhaps he thought of it as just another home. He might just assume that this was his new family, and that no one had bothered to let him know.
“Jeremy?” she asked before he could walk away from her.
“Yes?” He turned and looked her in the eyes again. She was impressed, having assumed he would look at the ground in shame instead.
“One month,” she said firmly.
He nodded. “One month.”
After walking out of the room, Jeremy made a pit stop for the broom.
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