Lord of California

by Andrew Valencia

  Katie opened her mouth very slowly. That’s way out of line, she said. She’s fourteen. Who would think to shame her like that?

  I’m not saying it’s right, Jennifer said. I’m just laying out exactly how things will unfold if you call the sheriff. Go ahead. Tell me I’m wrong.

  She has a point, Claudia said. You know how people get when there’s a scandal in the air. Especially when it involves a young girl.

  That’s exactly right, Jennifer said. What’s more, you all seem to be forgetting that our families have more reasons than most to keep out of the spotlight. We’ve been fortunate so far, even with the whole community whispering about us behind our backs, but that fortune won’t last if something like this comes out. To begin with, the local news stations are going to have a field day. They’re going to send reporters and cameramen out here to question all of us and our neighbors. And sooner or later they’re going to look into our pasts to try to figure out how five single women ever managed to get a hold of a farm this size. Our worst fears will become realized. They’ll find out about Elliot and the other parcels, and then we’ll be the ones on trial. That’s the nightmare that’s in store for us if you go ahead and call the sheriff—our children ostracized and abused, while government auditors come in and strip away everything we have. I’d be curious to hear how you could justify even the possibility of that happening.

  I waited for Katie to fire back at her. Or Mama. Or anyone else, really, just so I didn’t have to try and stand up to her myself. Jennifer had changed since the summer, or maybe I had. Either way, it wasn’t like Katie’s party this time around. There was too much cold logic in what she was saying, too many legit reasons to follow the cautious path. For years I had prided myself on being able to hold my own against any adult in the room, but now that no one was treating me like a child, the thrill of being included in the discussion had finally worn off. If anything, I found myself feeling jealous of Jessie and Gracie, safe and happy in the smaller house with all the other little kids. They probably didn’t even know that anything was wrong, or at least they had no clue of the compromises the adults were preparing to make on their behalf. I was flirting with the notion of going over and joining them when all of a sudden Dawn let out a long and miserable-sounding groan. She fell into Mama’s vacant chair and pressed her palms to her forehead as if to keep her face from hitting the table.

  What’s the point? What’s the fucking point of any of this? She raised her head and looked out at the rest of us with tear-rimmed eyes. This farm was supposed to be a safe place, she said. This was supposed to be a place where no one could hurt us. Not Elliot, not anyone. What’s the point of holding on to the farm, this hundred and twenty-acre monstrosity that everyone in town hates us for having, if we can’t keep our children safe? What’s the point if we can’t have justice when one of our own gets treated like a piece of meat? Why even bother?

  Heartbreaking as Dawn’s questions were, they didn’t have any effect on the rest of us beyond making us feel even lower than we already did. Jennifer stood with ice water in her veins, arms folded across her stomach like a peeved schoolteacher waiting for her class to settle down. Mama had taken a seat back at the table, and Anthony might as well have been a piece of decoration on the wall for as much as he contributed. As for me, I could already tell where the debate was headed, such that it seemed cruelly procedural when Jennifer called for a vote to settle the issue. Dawn’s arm was the first to shoot into the air, followed a moment later by Mama’s. Whatever hesitation she might have had in casting her vote in favor was likely erased by the realization that the nays had already won. Katie’s vote was the final one cast, several long seconds after Jennifer and Claudia had raised their hands. Afterward she let both arms fall down at her sides, as despondent in victory as if Beth’s assault had been carried out all over again.

  I’m going to feel guilty about this for the rest of my life, she said. Even now I don’t believe it’s the right thing to do. But I’m responsible for more than my own here. I can’t ask you to risk the wellbeing of your kids just to do right by one of mine.

  Those final words of concession stung worse than anything else that was said that morning. They placed the outcome squarely on the shoulders of those of us who had no say in the matter, declaring once and for all that we were the ones intended to benefit from denying Beth a chance for justice, regardless of how we felt about receiving the favor. The precedent had been set, and all future votes were proactively rendered meaningless. From now on, the women were subservient to the needs of the children, and we in turn were ruled by invisible enemies from outside the borders of the farm. While Mama and the others were slow to get up from the table, I left immediately after the vote was concluded, too overloaded with my own angst to do anything but let it fester on its own.

  It was early afternoon when again someone knocked at my door. I threw a pillow over my head and shouted to whoever it was to leave me alone and let me sleep. Of course I hadn’t really been sleeping, but if Mama got to spend days at a time lying awake under the covers, feeling like shit, then I believed I was entitled to at least half a day of regrouping in the same fashion. The door creaked open and I sensed a pair of feet coming toward me across the thin carpet. I sighed into the sleeping bag and prepared to cuss out Jessie or Gracie for ignoring my demands. But when I threw off the covers, I saw that Anthony was the one standing over me. The look on his face was deceptively vacant. Most people wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but I’d spent enough time around him the past few months to know when he had something on his mind.

  Christ, man. I could’ve been nude.

  His face didn’t change. Come with me, he said. I have something important I need to do, and I can’t do it alone.

  I’m not getting out of this bag unless you give me a good reason to.

  Just come on. Please. I was going to ask Will, but I don’t know if I can trust him.

  All right, all right. Give me a second.

  I pulled my jeans on and followed Anthony to the bedroom he shared with his brothers, Sebastian and Mark. The whole place stank of boy, of dirty socks and B.O., with an undercurrent of spray deodorant that did nothing to mask the other smells. Anthony began fishing through the wadded clothes on the floor at the bottom of his closet. He uncovered a grungy duffle bag and set it down carefully on the edge of the bed. The mysterious silence he was holding to was more off-putting than anything. Before unzipping the bag, he wedged a laundry hamper against the door to obstruct anyone who might try to surprise us.

  If you’re thinking of showing me your secret porn collection, I said, you picked one hell of a weird time.

  He acted like he couldn’t hear me. Stay by the door, he said. Keep an ear out and tell me if somebody’s coming.

  You’re going to have to explain what this is or I’m leaving.

  Not so loud. Just keep listening to the hallway.

  I waited and watched as he opened the duffle. Inside there were other wrinkled clothes, old shirts and cotton shorts worn down to mere rags. Anthony tore several layers off the top of the mound and threw them onto the bed, paying no mind whatsoever to what he was digging through. He forced his whole hand inside and grabbed hold of something at the bottom. After some initial stubbornness, the rifle came loose and slipped out from under the pile of clothes like a newborn calf bursting free from its mother’s pelvis. Anthony clasped the wooden underside of the rifle in his other hand and stood with the piece angled diagonally across his chest. Regardless of how he might have pictured himself, he looked less like a soldier or hunter and more like one of the illustrations from his brother’s picture book, Peter and the Wolf. If I hadn’t been so afraid of what he planned to do with the rifle, I almost certainly would’ve teased him about it.

  Listen, I said. You need to take a second to calm down. We’ve all been through a lot today. But whatever you’re thinking about doing, get it out of your head right now.

  He took a deep breath and held the rifle c
loser to his chest. I know what I’m doing, he said. I know what I have to do.

  Oh, really? And what do you think that is?

  Isn’t it obvious? Our families have been insulted. Yours, mine, all of us. Somebody’s got to make Eric pay for what he’s done, and I’m the one to do it. And I want you to come with me. To keep a lookout.

  Lookout. Jesus. You really have been watching too much Peacemaker.

  Anthony took a step forward and repositioned the rifle with the barrel across his shoulder. I’ve got it all planned out, he said. We’ll wait until dark and then drive up onto his family’s property with the headlights off. Depending on how much tree cover is available, I should be able to sneak up on the house without being spotted. When Eric passes in front of his bedroom window, I’ll plug him in the back of the head. By the time his parents discover the body, we’ll already be gone.

  I pressed my back against the door. The stink of dirty socks and underwear was radiating from the hamper, but it would’ve taken a lot more than that to get me to move aside. I should’ve known you’d take this badly, I said. Earlier, when we first got a look at Beth, I admit I was annoyed at you. It annoyed me that everyone else was doing their part to make her feel better and you were just standing off by yourself, not helping. But now I wish you’d go back to sulking in the corner. At least then I didn’t have to worry about you doing something crazy.

  This is my way of helping Beth, he said. It’s for her sake that I’m prepared to shed blood.

  No, it’s not. You just said it. You want to go off and murder Eric because you believe he insulted the family. You want to shoot him to make yourself feel better.

  Anthony scowled at me with anger boiling up from behind his eyes. I’m not a kid anymore, he said. I’m a man. It’s my responsibility to protect this household. Somebody has to.

  Our mothers just did what no mother should ever have to do, I said. They sold their souls to keep a shit storm from raining down on us. And now here you are, fixing to bring another storm down on top of us.

  If you’re not going to help me, fine. I’ll do it on my own.

  No. You won’t. You’re going to put the rifle away, and you’re going to stay clear of Eric and his family.

  What’re you going to do? Pry this thing out of my hands?

  No. I’ll do what you’re really afraid of. I’ll tell your mother about your plans.

  Anthony blinked a few times without saying a word. Then he smiled. Go ahead, he said. I don’t give a crap if she knows.

  Yes, you do. Or you wouldn’t have set me to listening for her footsteps in the hall.

  The smile vanished as quick as it came. He slid the rifle off his shoulder and held it loose with the barrel dangling an inch off the floor. I trusted you to help me with this, he said. You wouldn’t really go and tattle on me like that.

  The hell I wouldn’t. If you wind up arrested for murder, it won’t be long before word gets out about Elliot’s parcel fraud. Then where will we be?

  I won’t get caught. I’ve got it all planned out.

  You don’t even know what his family’s property is like. They’ll nab you for trespassing before you get anywhere near Eric.

  He clenched his teeth and swung the rifle onto the bed. God damn it, he cried. Why are you being like this? Why are you being such a little bitch?

  As he turned his face to the wall, I seized my chance and pounced on the rifle before he could get his hands on it again. I pulled back the lock to inspect the chamber. It wasn’t even loaded. Anthony paced the room with his hands balled into tight little fists. Every so often he paused to punch the air and let out a high-pitched groan. For as much as he was worried about me making noise, he didn’t seem too concerned about someone overhearing his hissy fit.

  You don’t understand, he said. None of you understand a damn thing about what I’m going through. I can’t just stand by feeling helpless while that asshole gets away scot free. A man protects his own. I wouldn’t respect myself if I didn’t.

  You need to quit worrying so much about how you feel about it, I said. You weren’t the one he tried to rape. You didn’t get beat up, and you didn’t have to walk home alone in the dark. If all you can think about at a time like this is how you’re going to prove yourself a man, then you’ve got the same head sickness as Eric as far as I’m concerned.

  Anthony slammed his fist into the wall. From the way he winced afterward, it looked like it hurt him a lot more than it did the wall. All right, he said. What, then? What do I do to make this right? And don’t say let it go. I’ve had enough of that shit from our mothers.

  No one expects you to let it go, I said. If you really want to help, you can do what you should have done from the start. You can put the rifle away and come with me to Katie’s place. You can help to make Beth feel better. That’s what she really needs right now.

  He stood with his hands in his pockets, looking down at his sock-feet. I wouldn’t be any good over there, he said. I wouldn’t even know what to say to her.

  You were ready to kill for her sake, I said. But you can’t even stand to face her. Is that what being a man means to you?

  Even with Anthony acting quiet and moody, I felt a whole lot better about the situation once the rifle was back inside the duffle bag, hidden away in the closet. Anthony put his shoes on and followed me across the yard to the smaller house. There were dark clouds across the sky and in front of the sun, but still he kept his head down and eyes turned away from me as we walked. We approached the house from the front. Jennifer’s parents, Grandma Alice and Grampa Reid, were seated in canvas camping chairs positioned side by side on the porch. Before we could even begin to mount the steps, Beth came outside carrying a plate of saltine crackers and two plastic cups of wine. The bruises on her face now showed the same deep red color as the drink. She had on a pair of gray sweatpants and one of her mother’s button-up shirts, but her hair was still done up the way it had been at the dance. She glanced at us briefly, then set the refreshments on the folding table and squatted on the boards beside the old couple.

  There’s lemonade in the kitchen if you guys want, she said. Mom likes to keep some on hand even on cool days.

  No, thanks, I said. We’re not thirsty. We came to see how you were doing.

  She turned the bruised side of her face to us and shrugged. You’re looking at it, she said.

  I sat down across from her with my back against the porch railing. Anthony remained standing, leaning on the painted support column at the top of the steps, his head angled so he could only see us through the corner of his eye, if he saw us at all. Jennifer’s parents or not, we didn’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing in front of Grandma Alice and Grampa Reid. Alice hadn’t spoken a word since her laryngectomy years before, and Reid’s mind was so drifty most days he could barely remember who we were. Alice reached a veiny hand out and raised the cup of wine to her lips. Her husband smacked a saltine into mush between his gums, crumbs cascading onto his face and clothes. Beth took the napkin off his lap and wiped his chin for him.

  You shouldn’t have to look after them today, I said. You need to rest.

  I’ve rested enough. She folded the napkin over and laid it across Grampa Reid’s thin leg. Besides, Jennifer pays me good money to take care of her folks on the weekends. She has ever since we moved in.

  Can’t she get Lewis or Jewel to do it?

  Beth laughed. Lewis is too busy spanking his monkey to be of help to anyone, she said. As for Jewel, she’d be happy sticking her grandparents in the ground a few years early just so another bedroom would open up. I guess Jennifer cares enough about her mom and dad not to place their wellbeing in her own kids’ hands. Anyway, she pays well, and I don’t mind it.

  I pulled the brassiere out of my back pocket. It unraveled instantly and hung limp and wrinkled from my fingers. I wanted to make sure I got this back to you, I said. The cups didn’t fit right, so I didn’t end up wearing it in the end, but I wanted to say thanks all the same
. It was a nice thing for you to do.

  She took the brassiere and folded it into her shirt pocket. Sorry it didn’t work out, she said. Sometimes it’s nice to feel sexy just for the hell of it.

  Anthony cleared his throat in a way that made me wonder if I’d made a mistake bringing him along. Here it was supposed to be his chance to make her feel better and all he could do was stand around looking sour like always.

  We wanted you to know that we’re both sorry for what happened, I said. We wanted to say that if you ever want to talk, we’re both right across the way. Right, Anthony?

  He pivoted on his heel and made eye contact with Beth for the first time since we arrived. For sure, he said. You need help with anything, let us know.

  That’s right, I said. In fact, Anthony, why don’t you ask your mom if she can start lending you the car during the day? That way you can drive us to school and we won’t have to bother with the bus anymore.

  Anthony nodded. Yeah. I’ll try asking her.

  That’s sweet of you to offer, Beth said. But I’m not going to need a ride to school from now on.

  I turned my head and gaped at her. Why not?

  I turn fifteen in a couple of months. Mama says they won’t kick up a fuss if I leave early.

  She’s making you drop out?

  No. This is my own choice. I may not get the chance to see Eric behind bars, but I sure as hell don’t have to see him again either. Or any of them for that matter.

  I watched her dry her eyes on the sleeve of Katie’s shirt. She shuddered from touching the bruised half of her face, and afterward she let the tears on that side fall where they may.

  Seems like a shame to leave school on his account, I said. What’re you going to do, then, if you’re done taking classes?

  I don’t know, she said. But I’ll tell you one thing. Soon as I’m old enough, I’m leaving the valley for good. I’m sick of it.

  Where would you go?