One day, they were driving and Jeremy felt curious. As far as he can remember, he was asking the questions every child asks, and should.
Why is the sky blue, Mommy?
Do you think that the trees can feel things like when you pull off a leaf?
Where does the sun go at night, and how does it always know to come back? Simple questions with complex answers. Most parents, Jeremy imagined, would smile and feign knowledge, or simply announce that they didn’t know either but offer congratulations on having such an inquisitive mind.
Gloria looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. Jeremy didn’t realize it was the last time he would ever see her, but that expression is still branded into his memory somehow. He couldn’t tell if it was hatred or confusion, impatience or concern.
“I don’t know, Jeremy. Why don’t you go find someone who does?” she gave a rare reply.
“Who?” he asked innocently, as it was only the two of them in the car.
She turned off the main road onto a smaller residential one. “I don’t know,” she said again, almost mockingly. “Why don’t you go knock on one of those doors and see if you can find someone who knows?”
Confused and a little scared, Jeremy undid his seatbelt and got out of the car. He waddled to the nearest door, looking back gingerly at his mother to make sure he was doing it right. She nodded and smiled, looking happier than he’d ever really seen her. He rang the doorbell after standing on the tops of his tippy toes and pushing all of his weight against the tiny button. The loud chime that his efforts evoked was very rewarding, he remembered. Looking back proudly, he saw her watching expectantly. No one answered.
“Try the next one,” she shouted. “I’ll bet they know the answer.”
He scurried to the next house, excited by her involvement in something to do with him.
Again, a tippy toe thrust to ring the chime. Right away he heard the bark of a dog and the clip clip clip of its little claws scampering towards the door. Heavier, denser human footsteps followed shortly behind. The door opened, and Jeremy beamed up at the tall and smiling man who stood before him.
Little Jeremy turned to make sure his mom could see his progress, but her car was no longer there.
He was five years old.
The man in the doorway thought him a boy scout, out to sell cookies or collect non-perishable goods, but quickly registered the panicked look on Jeremy’s face.
“You aren’t here all by yourself, are you?” the man asked. Jeremy burst into tears. He didn’t know what else to do. The man put his hand on Jeremy’s shoulder and tried to coax him into explaining what was wrong, but his tongue felt thick and heavy. His vocabulary wasn’t nearly developed enough to explain abandonment.
“She’s gone,” he finally sobbed. “Mom... Gone...” He hiccupped it out clearly enough that the man at the door ran down the driveway in search of a frantic figure looking around for her precious baby boy. But there was no such person.
The man, whom Jeremy later found out was named Earl, ushered him inside with a reassuring hand on his small, shaking shoulder. “Don’t worry, little man,” he said soothingly, “We’ll find her.”
She didn’t want to be found though, and she never was.
Jeremy took a deep breath. He didn’t want to say anything more.
Violet squirmed, and couldn’t help but think back to her own childhood; the countless photos of her on her mother’s lap, holding hands in the park, getting a piggyback ride. When Ben had come along, the photos had just expanded to include the three of them. For all that Holly lacked, there was still much she’d done undoubtedly right.
“Oh Jeremy,” she finally said. “I had no idea. I’m so sorry. I just… I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, it’s okay. Anyways, I guess I have a father out there somewhere but I never knew who he was, so I ended up in an orphanage with a bunch of other kids. And that’s when I was adopted by the Ridgeroy’s. And that’s it.”
“How old were you?” Violet asked.
“I was five. I was old enough to remember it all.”
He was shaking his head now. His words had gotten more heated and slurred. Frenzied. He couldn’t stop.
“You probably don’t even realize how many people you have behind you,” he said to Violet. “I’ll bet there are so many of your friends and family back home who think about you everyday and wish you were back. And I’m sorry, I know that’s a shitty point to make and I know you want to say, ‘Let us go back, then.’ I know.” He inhaled sharply. “But the thing is, when I took you and Ben, even though I didn’t know he was coming, I was finally creating a family for myself. Living in this house with you two has given me a reason to wake up in the morning.”
His mouth opened again as if about to continue, but he stopped there instead. He looked up expectantly at Violet, waiting for her response.
What am I supposed to say to that? she thought to herself. You’re a crazy person? Thanks for messing up our lives just because yours was? But she didn’t say that. She pushed those thoughts back, and chose instead to act on the twinge, the one that made her want to hug Little Jeremy abandoned on a porch.
“I don’t know what I can say to that,” she began. “Because it sounds like you’ve gone through a lot of suffering in your life. As much as I hate you sometimes – and I do, Jeremy, sometimes I really, really do,” she clenched her jaw. “But there are times when I like you a little. You’re not awful. You don’t yell at us, you don’t hurt us or lay your hands on us, which were all fears I had about you at first. I was positive that you couldn’t continue to be so docile towards us and that your top was just going to blow sometime. But Jeremy, besides the fact that it was completely insane for you to kidnap us – you do realize it was insane, don’t you?” Jeremy nodded eagerly.
“Besides the fact that it was crazy,” she rephrased and continued, “You have been wonderful to us. You have been gentle and kind and a good listener and… I’m starting to feel weird about giving you so many compliments. But you’re not awful.” Violet found her hand reaching out to touch his arm.
“There is nothing intrinsic about you that should repel people. Your life shouldn’t have turned out this way. Your mom was a piece of shit. I’m sorry if that offends you, but honestly? She was a worthless piece of trash for doing what she did to you, and it’s a good thing you got away from her. I know it might not seem like it, but the rest of your life with her would have been even more awful.”
Jeremy hadn’t thought of it that way before. He supposed he was a little hesitant to think of his mother in any way other than through a softened, nostalgic lens where he could pretend she used to love him.
“I know things haven’t been easy for you, Jeremy. But life isn’t easy for anyone. And I’m sorry you’ve been through so much, and that you don’t have people around to support you the way you should be, but you can’t force someone to be that person for you. It’s a choice they have to make for themselves. I am never going to feel that way about you, because it wasn’t up to me to come here. I never got to choose.”
“I know,” Jeremy said sadly, “I know you’re right. But you were just so nice to me in the diner, and I convinced myself you might be that person for me. You were so friendly, and you smiled, and you asked how I was doing...”
Violet fought the urge to tell him, Of course I was nice to you, I was trying to get a good tip! She realized that would be cruel. She didn’t want him to think his whole vision had been a lie. She would grant him that one, small decency.
“Violet,” he said then, “I will let you go. Both of you. I know that my words hold no weight now because I’ve said it so many times before. But I know that you and Ben can’t stay here forever, and the longer I keep you, the more you’ll hate me. I realize that. But I’m not ready yet. This Christmas was the best in my life. Getting to spend it with an excited little boy, and you, was incredible.”
He said you with such reverence that Violet was taken aback. Her? She wondered what m
ade him feel it was such an honour to spend the holiday with her. She felt something close to butterflies but forced herself to swallow and breathe until they were gone.
“Just as long as you know that then,” said Violet. “I’ll try to be respectful of your deciding when you can let us go. But please just remember that Ben and I do have a family and we do have friends, and they’re missing us. They’re probably very worried about us. So to let us go back home to them would be a gift you could give us that we would never forget.”
She knew her words would hit him right in the gut. She saw it register in his eyes. He would let them go, she knew it. But there had to be a way she could speed up the process.
Violet’s legs were half exposed in a skirt. She crossed them, and noticed that Jeremy’s eyes tracked her movement. She searched for his gaze’s intention but found none. She lifted her hand to scratch her collarbone, right below her new necklace, and saw his eyes slip to her breasts.
When did this start? she wondered. Certainly not right from the beginning, she would have noticed long ago. His eyes hadn’t always wandered like that; they hadn’t shown any interest in her curves or the parts that made her different from him. She would know. She had watched for it.
It wasn’t a skill she was proud of but she had learned, not inherited, from her mother the gift of manipulating the opposite sex. She had never thought to try it on Jeremy. He had seemed so asexual, so distant and untouchable and ultimately disinterested. But Valentine’s Day was quickly approaching and Violet decided she would take her New Year’s resolution into effect as fast as she could.
Her mother would be so proud.
23
Violet was right. Something had changed in Jeremy. It hadn’t happened in small steps, slowly inching deeper into his brain. It had hit him like a brick, right in the stomach, only a couple of days earlier.
He had gone upstairs to ask her if she’d like a cup of tea. She drank so many these days that any time he put on water, he asked just in case. She usually said yes.
On that day, he caught her unaware. Her bedroom door lay open, and he peeked in to see her sleeping body sprawled across the bed. Clothes fully on, blankets fully off, her eyes and mouth closed delicately and she didn’t make a sound. It was the silence that intrigued Jeremy, and the complete lack of motion. She could have been dead lying there. He walked into her room where he knew he didn’t belong and lowered himself so that his own cheek hovered inches from hers. There was her breathing, so calm and regular, no hesitation or fear. Just tiny, sweet breaths.
Her eyelids fluttered against each other and he wondered what she was dreaming of. Her hands were clasped around the comforter crumpled beside her, evoking an image of Violet as a little girl gripping a baby blanket. She looked so innocent. He wanted to take a picture so that he could look at her like this every night, without fear of her noticing his eyes lingering on her for far too long.
How smooth her legs looked, hooked around her blanket; how lithe her arms. A strand of hair had fallen over her left eye and he fought, physically fought, the urge to reach down and smooth it away.
Suddenly she moved, and Jeremy took a step backwards. Her sleepy eyes opened slowly and unseeingly. The pupils within her ocean grey eyes were enormous, and they focused on Jeremy before he found a way to escape.
She didn’t scream. He thought she might. She didn’t snarl, either. She simply said, “Jeremy?”
“Hi,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I woke you, I just boiled some water and was wondering if you’d like a cup of tea.”
“Yes, please,” she whispered back, then closed her eyes. That was it. Instantly, her breathing returned to its quiet, regular stride. The ease with which she had fallen back asleep made Jeremy’s heart feel warm. Wasn’t that trust? Allowing herself to close her eyes while he still stood over her bed?
He rushed back downstairs, made her a cup of Earl Gray with a tiny bit of milk (he wondered why she bothered putting any in at all), and ascended the stairs back to her room.
She was still curled up; she hadn’t moved. He gently placed the mug on her bedside table and left it there. He was tempted to wake her before it got cold, but she looked so peaceful that he didn’t have the heart to. He turned to walk away, denying himself the pleasure of looking at her any longer, and heard her say in a tiny, babyish wisp, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said in the doorway before forcing himself to turn away.
That was it for him, the moment he noticed there was no one in the world he cared more for. It terrified him.
The timing could not have been better. Or was it worse? Four days after Jeremy found the sleeping Violet, she began her new plan.
She would seduce Jeremy. She knew she could do it. She would wield her new power to set herself and Ben free. The video camera above Violet’s bed was something she had avoided as much as possible. Always careful never to take off her clothes in its path, Violet had for months huddled in the corners to change or get ready for bed. When she touched herself at night, she did so lying on her side, away from the camera, underneath the covers. She hid her mouth in her pillow and bit down on it. The thought of him watching her always crept into her mind. As hard as she tried to keep it at bay, there was no preventing it. Sometimes she would stop, shake her head, force him out of it and restart. Others, she would just let it be. In those times, she moved angrily, hungrily. Is this what you want to see? she’d think to herself. Is this why you’ve kept us here? Well feast your eyes on this then, you bastard. As much Violet was getting used to being around Jeremy, she still hated his presence in her room; she wanted to cry every time she looked up and saw that black box.
Lately, she’d been looking up and wanting to do more than cry. She wanted to strike back and use that black box against him. That night, four nights after Jeremy’s revelation, Violet walked into her room and over to her bed. Her back was to the camera, but by Violet’s best guess, she was dead centre in the middle of its lens. She took her shirt off slowly and threw it aside. Lifting her hands over her head, Violet smoothed her hair back and pulled it into a loose bun. It was getting long enough to tickle the small of her back, the longest it had ever been.
Bending over, she shimmied her legs together until she had worked her pants off each limb. She stood slowly and started to get nervous about what would come next. Should she really be doing this? What if Jeremy came barging into her room and expected her to continue under his watch? Didn’t men get off on that sort of thing? Pretend I’m not even here, he might whisper.
Her hands reached behind her and unclasped her bra, the very decisive movement that men always seem to have an easier time doing than women. The motion was almost like snapping your fingers, except softer and sometimes double-handed. Her bra was mustard yellow, like her sweater, and had lace on both straps and cups. It was the bra she had worn to work that day so long ago, and had worn every day since. It was a fate better than the alternative – sending Jeremy on a bra hunt for her. Hmm, she thought, maybe now is the time for that.
She hugged her body so that the straps fell down, then lowered her arms to let the fabric fall to the floor. The last part would be the hardest. She felt acutely aware of how naked she already was, and clenched her teeth in discomfort. She couldn’t imagine taking off anything more; it would feel like shedding a necessary layer, skinning herself for his pleasure.
Violet took care not to look directly into the camera, not yet. She kept her back to it, put her fingers inside the elastic of her underwear, and bent down while holding on tightly to the soft nylon material. She stepped out of it one leg at a time, and slowly ran her hands up her legs until she stood once more, skinned alive. Her nipples were hard with excitement and fear. She wasn’t sure which was more overpowering, but prayed it was the latter.
Next, she turned around. Took down her hair, shook her head so that it fell gently around her shoulders. She wasn’t sure she was sexy enough to be standing in front of a camera like that, but it was
only Jeremy on the other end.
As her naked body faced the camera, her eyes trying desperately not to look into it, she wondered what would come next. In a successful seduction, Jeremy would walk through the door, take her into his arms and admit to watching. He might guide her hand onto himself to prove it. It wasn’t what Violet wanted, and knowing all she did about Jeremy, she realized she shouldn’t worry.
With newfound reverence, she stared at the camera violently, barely blinking. Her hand reached down her body to the tuft of course hair, her weapon in hibernation beneath it. The shield made her feel safer somehow.
Stepping backwards, Violet sat on the edge of the bed. She propped herself back on both elbows and raised her legs off the floor. As if imaginary stirrups cupped her feet, Violet’s knees did their best to touch the comforter. She spread herself wide open to form a diamond; her left knee, her toes, her right knee, her sheath.
She knew he could see all of her. Pink lips he’d want to kiss. He had to. What if he didn’t? She shook the thought away. Her left hand mapped a route to her clitoris. She used three fingers, ran them in circles over herself, and focused on keeping her legs still. She never succeeded.
Violet felt like a beast on the bed, bucking and groaning. She lowered herself off of her elbows, her back flat against the cool, smooth cotton of the duvet. The small of her back curved up a tiny bit. One hand stayed on herself, the other found its way to her face. Her wrist touched her lips and she settled her fingers down over her eyes.
She caught herself holding her breath and forced it out in a large burst of exertion. Dizziness gripped her, as if she had a new centre of gravity she had yet to figure out. Her eyes started to leak too, tears of a different kind, coursing down her cheeks, her neck, settling into her collarbone. No sobs accompanied them. She fought every instinct she had to make a sound. Lives were meant to have highs and lows, but that moment was the lowest. Out of eyes squeezed as tight as her clenched jaw, under fingers that caged her eyeballs, she still saw slivers of light. She couldn’t keep it all out.
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