Home From Within

by Lisa Maggiore

  “I think your dad has his own plan, this weekend in the office. But when you do meet, honey, go slow with the questions.”

  Jessica mulled over that thought and then asked why.

  “Because your father doesn’t like to talk about the past. But I will tell you this,” Aunt Lodi said, trying to compose herself. “That picture was taken when something we lost was returned to us. And for the first time in a long time, me and your dad felt complete.”

  Jessica let the statement roll in her head, trying to figure out how lost they could have been.

  The Piper Mall was the place to hang out if you were a teenager. Although Jessica had only been to the mall twice, once with Marilee and once with her father, she heard many stories in school about it. One story she had overheard was about a secret stairwell that kids made out in. As she and Aunt Lodi walked through the crowded corridors, Jessica envisioned her and Paul in the secret stairwell. In her fantasy, she was a great kisser because of all her practice on the pillows. Even Paul was impressed.

  All teenagers were supposed to be embarrassed to be with an adult at the mall, but Jessica did not mind. She was ecstatic about getting a wardrobe she didn’t have to sneak out. Shirts that would be accepted into the Turner home were easy to find. Jeans, however, were not. Aunt Lodi had Jessica try on twenty different styles and sizes, but it all amounted to the same flaw: too tight.

  “I don’t think we’re going to get around this,” Aunt Lodi said with a disappointed tone. She stared at the three pairs in her hands. “These were the loosest although that’s a stretch. I’ll buy them but keep the receipt just in case.”

  Jessica took advantage of the shopping opportunity to get some cooler looking underwear. She felt so embarrassed when she changed in the locker room. All the girls had sexy-looking bikini briefs, one even wore a thong. But Jessica had what amounted to granny panties.

  While changing in the locker room, some girls started laughing while looking Jessica’s way. She ignored them like she usually did, assuming they were talking about someone else, but one of them yelled at her, “Hey, did you borrow those from your Grandma?”

  Jessica had no idea what she was talking about. Borrow what? Jessica’s hands started trembling. They were making fun of her.

  “I guess she doesn’t want to answer you,” a girl with a loud squeaky voice said.

  “Hey, you, did you hear me? Nice granny panties.”

  As her heart pounded in her chest, she jumped at the sound of a slamming locker from behind.

  “Are you shitting me? You’re staring at her undies, you creep?” blurted one of the Mohawk girls.

  Jessica swallowed hard and looked over at her haters. She could see the strain on all their faces.

  “We’re just joking around with our friend, right?” said one of the girls. But Jessica did not respond. She looked at Mohawk girl with relief.

  “Yeah, right,” said Mohawk girl. “Quit fucking around with her or I’ll beat your asses.”

  In a flash, the girls turned around and continued changing into their gym uniforms. Jessica wanted to quietly thank Mohawk girl, but before she could, Mohawk girl was in the gym getting ready to slam some of those girls into the wall during floor hockey. Later that week, Jessica saw Mohawk girl outside walking by herself. She decided it was a perfect opportunity to say thank you. Jessica walked to where she was and then realized she did not even know her proper name.

  “Uh, excuse me.”

  Mohawk girl turned around wielding a cigarette in between her fingers. “Yeah.”

  “I just wanted to thank you for last week, you know with the girls in the locker room.”

  “No sweat,” she said, as she coolly blew smoke out of her mouth.

  Jessica was going to leave it at that, but she was so curious about two things: why she did it and were her parents okay with her hair?

  “I really appreciate you standing up for me.”

  Mohawk girl smirked. “I didn’t do it for you per se. I did it for all those who get picked on by the elite.”

  “Oh,” Jessica mumbled, feeling not so special anymore. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Shoot,” said Mohawk girl.

  “Are your parents cool with your hair?”

  Mohawk girl laughed out loud. “Funny,” she said and walked away.

  Aunt Lodi brought the clothes to her father for inspection. After a few tense moments, he agreed she could wear them, but he would have to see the jeans on before giving his total approval. Her mother stood back with a grim look on her face. Jessica was careful not to show her happiness, in case her mother felt the need to squash it.

  The evening Aunt Lodi left, Jessica started to feel that deep lonely feeling again. She tried to cling to all the wonderful moments they had together but as Aunt Lodi’s car pulled out of the driveway, desolation washed over her.

  Jason turned to Jessica. “I’m sad.”

  No sooner was Aunt Lodi down the block when her mother demanded they get in the house. Everyone was to pitch in and help clean up the mess. The radio in the kitchen was tuned back to news coverage, and the whole family worked until bedtime sanitizing, mopping, and washing the entire house. Even her father, who rarely said one damaging word about his sister, agreed she was disheveled. Exhausted, Jessica dropped onto her bed. Before falling into a deep sleep, she pulled her pillows, including the ones she sneaked from Aunt Lodi’s bed, tight against her skin.

  Chapter 10

  On Saturday morning, after Jason and her father returned from a jog, Jessica was summoned to the office. She brought a pen and notebook so she could be as accurate as possible with her note taking. Her father was at his desk when Jessica walked in. He told her to have a seat and then handed her a piece of paper.

  “Here’s my family tree. Your mother’s is on the other side. Any questions?”

  Jessica studied the paper under duress; this was not how she envisioned this moment. Stories and memories were supposed to be shared. Aunt Lodi said everyone has a story to tell and Jessica wanted to hear it. She took a deep breath then swallowed hard, summoning up as much courage as she could gather between her fears.

  “Do you think you can tell me about your childhood?”

  His face tightened. “That’s in the past. This is now; this is where I want to be.”

  Jessica pursed her lips together. “It would add to the paper if I could have some more details.”

  “Be specific. What details do you want?”

  “Just one story about you, you know, and your parents.”

  He walked to the French doors and stared out for a few moments. The gray spring day brought a few sprinkles of rain that hit the windows in little splats. While Jessica sat in silence, she continued to decipher the family tree. It appeared his parents died at the same time. She knew they were dead but the story attached to their death was never told.

  “As you know, I grew up on a farm, in the UP,” her father began, still looking out the window. “We had livestock, mostly dairy. Some bean and corn crops. Lodi and I worked hard; you had no choice on a farm. My parents were good people, strong morals and values, church-going folks. Everybody knew everybody where we grew up. It was supposed to be a safe place to live.” He turned and looked at her. “But no place is safe.” He folded his arms tight in front of him. “My parents were killed in a car accident, ol’ Buddy Akers on that whiskey. You know where Buddy Akers is?”

  Jessica reluctantly shook her head, afraid her father might reveal too much.

  “Living in a nursing home in the UP, letting taxpayers foot the bill for his murdering ass.” Her father hesitated for a few seconds. “But you know who is not in that nursing home?” She watched as her father grew agitated. His face shrouded in hate and his arm muscles flexed. “Ermaline and Walker.”

  Who were Ermaline and Walker? Those were not the names of his parents.

  “Are those relatives?” Jessica asked out of curiosity.

  Her father suddenly sat down in his office
chair and put his fists against his forehead and slowly began to bang them against his head. After a minute had passed, her father spoke in a voice that cracked, “I hate everything about Ermaline and Walker. Even their names leave a foul taste in my mouth. I can still see it. I can still see too much.”

  Jessica’s eyes were firmly planted on her father because she had never witnessed him being in pain. It was hard to tell, because his fists covered his face, but she was pretty sure a tear fell from his eye.

  “Dad, are you ok?” Jessica asked. She was about to move off the couch to be closer to him, but then he slammed his fists on the desk and stood up tall. If his eyes did shed a tear, they were all dried up now.

  “Look around this room. See all these weapons,” he said, then walked toward a bayonet and ripped it off the wall. He held it up for Jessica to see. “They can only serve you to a point. It’s up to you to keep yourself safe, no matter what.”

  Jessica fixed her eyes on the closed door, hoping to telepathically beckon her mother.

  “Your job is to keep guard of yourself at all times. Know who is around your space; everyone can be an enemy.”

  Like a gift from God, the phone rang in the office. Jessica stared at her father, but he acted like he didn’t even notice.

  “The phone is ringing,” Jessica whispered.

  From the kitchen, her mother yelled for her father to answer it. Instead of picking it up, he lifted the bayonet high above his head and brought it down point first on top of the phone. It looked like he was spearing a shark. Jessica jumped at the sound as little pieces of plastic went flying all over the room. She crouched down on the side of the leather sofa, and peeked at her father, feeling shocked at his lack of control. He was staring at the bayonet while his hand trembled. Even though she felt protected by her father, she feared his rage made his vision blurry. She would have to take his advice and keep herself safe. Before she could make a move toward the door, her mother came lunging into the office with her apron on, batter all over her hands.

  “Jim, have you lost your mind?”

  He stared at her as if he had never seen her before.

  “Jim, this is your wife, remember, your family, the people you love and are to protect.”

  He glared at his wife, bayonet still in hand. Jason came running into the room and stopped just past the threshold.

  “Jessica, I want you and Jason to go upstairs, please,” her mother said with a mixture of fear and firmness in her tone.

  Jessica stared at her father, not sure if she could trust him being alone with her mother. Peeling herself off the leather sofa, she approached her mother and was about to say they should all leave Dad alone, but the thin line of her mother’s lips and the eyes that directed Jessica toward the door kept her quiet. Jessica led Jason out of the office, and when they entered the hallway, she heard the phone ringing in the kitchen. She wondered who was on the other end because the ringing was nonstop, but her thoughts kept going back to her mother in the office, with her father, and all his weapons. But then Jessica remembered she had a weapon of her own. “Come on,” she mumbled to Jason as she hurdled up the stairs to her bedroom. She grabbed the Mace from her backpack and told Jason if anything bad happened to get under the bed and stay there until someone safe came to get him. Jason’s little brow frowned up.

  “I’m the boy. I should help.”

  Jessica had no time for testosterone. “Listen, you’re only six. I’m fifteen. Do as I say.” He stopped protesting and slid under her bed.

  Jessica crept down the stairs with the Mace in front of her and ready, if needed, to pull the trigger on the same man who gave it to her.

  There were no noises coming out of the office—no gurgling on blood, no murderous cries. Jessica leaned inside the doorframe. Her father was sitting in his desk chair, head in hands, rocking ever so slowly back and forth. Her mother was on her hands and knees cleaning up the mess. And the bayonet was safely back on the wall.

  Jessica and Jason stayed in her room the rest of the morning. They played games, drew pictures, and read books. For a snack, they ate smashed cereal bars that were at the bottom of her backpack. At one point Jessica dozed off. When she woke up, she found Jason sitting at the end of her bed, stiff as a statue.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Shhh, Dad’s up here. I just saw him.” Jessica leaned over and grabbed the Mace from the nightstand. As she sat back up, her father walked in with Marilee’s dad.

  “Bob’s going to take you to his house for the night. Jessica, pack a small bag for the both of you.”

  Her father did not look like the raving lunatic from earlier. Jessica tried to get a good look at his eyes, but he would not meet hers.

  “Where’s Mom?” asked Jessica.

  “Cooking dinner,” he said and walked away.

  It was Aunt Lodi on the other line when her father smashed the phone into pieces. She became alarmed when she called back and the phone just rang so she called the Ripps. Jessica found this out upon entering the Ripp home and being handed the phone with Aunt Lodi on the other end. Jessica repeated that she was fine and felt safe, then started to wonder if she had done something wrong because Aunt Lodi kept reiterating she did nothing wrong.

  “You have every right to know the history of your family. Please don’t let that outburst stop you from asking questions.” Outburst? Jessica could not help but wonder what Aunt Lodi would have thought being in that room watching her father unravel. If she were witness to that, would she continue to push for any more stories?

  Marilee, Barbara, and Julie were still at school participating in mandatory Saturday practices but Eddie was home, so he took Jason in the basement to watch TV. Mrs. Ripp was in the kitchen writing down a pizza order for dinner.

  “What do you and Jason like on your pizza?”

  “Just cheese, please.”

  Mrs. Ripp smiled and said out loud while writing, “One small cheese pizza, and two large sausage, mushroom, and pepperoni. We eat like pigs over here,” Mrs. Ripp said. “I know you guys don’t eat like this in your house.” Jessica was amused by the Ripps. They were more primitive than her parents. It was a refreshing change.

  “Look at Bob,” Mrs. Ripp said as he walked through the kitchen to the dining room. “You would hardly know that man can eat two large pizzas. Now me, I stick with one.”

  Jessica was unsure if she was joking, so she gave a small grin, not wanting to seem ungrateful for the hospitality.

  After some polite conversation with Mrs. Ripp, Jessica lied and said she had a headache and went upstairs to Marilee’s room. All the Ripp girls shared the attic on the third floor. Warm knotty pine paneling ran the entire length with a window centered on the front and back walls. The pine reminded Jessica of Aunt Lodi’s cabin and gave her an instantly cozy feeling.

  The sun, which finally came out after all the gray and rain, was setting to the west, beaming a large ray of light at the foot of Marilee’s bed. Jessica lay down on the unmade bed in a fetal position and started to cry. The loneliness was hard to shake and was reinforced by her mother not saying good-bye or checking on them all day. Shouldn’t that be number one on the priority list? See how the kids handled their dad’s meltdown?

  “Are you all right?” Mrs. Ripp’s voice interrupted Jessica’s pain, and she sat up quickly, wiping her eyes.

  “I’m fine. Just tired.”

  Mrs. Ripp looked unconvinced. “Oh sure, sometimes I feel the same way. Sometimes I just want to lie in bed all day. But then I start to get bored and wonder, what am I missing?” She slowly walked towards Marilee’s bed, picking up random pieces of tossed clothing on the floor.

  “Although I don’t ever miss housework.”

  Jessica grinned.

  “Life can be tiresome. We really don’t understand why people act in certain ways. But know this, you are the decider on how you handle adversity, how you deal with tough situations. Don’t ever let something out of your control decide your path in life.”
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  Jessica was getting the distinct feeling this was a Ripp pep talk, and she appreciated the effort.

  “Thank you. I’ll remember that.”

  Once all the Ripp kids got home from various functions, everyone flocked to the dinner table in the kitchen. They did not serve on china or have cloth napkins; it was paper and more paper. And it was loud: “Pass the parmesan. Pass the crushed red peppers. Hey, I wanted that piece.”

  “Hey, I need some cheese … please.” Jessica watched as Jason chimed in, feeling more comfortable.

  Jessica and Jason smiled at each other.

  Conversation flowed as all spoke about their day: things that happened, good and bad. Mr. Ripp was not a talker, however. Jessica watched him give a lot of grins and head nods. He would interject every now and then, usually to give advice, and then get back to being silent.

  “Eddie, are you going out tonight?” inquired Mrs. Ripp.

  “Yeah, I don’t have to work tomorrow until later in the afternoon.”

  “Oooh, are you going out with Sonja?” Marilee asked.

  “Shut up,” said Barbara. “You’re so immature.”

  “You shut up,” Marilee retorted.

  “Enough,” Mr. Ripp snorted.

  Marilee and Barbara looked at each other with contempt.

  “Jessica, you can sleep in my bed tonight. I’m sleeping at Margaret’s house,” Julie said.

  “Are you meeting us at church?” Mrs. Ripp asked.

  “If I must,” Julie said while getting up and throwing away her paper plate.

  After Jessica and Marilee helped clean up and get Jason ready for bed, they went to the basement to listen to the radio and paint each other’s nails. Jessica would have to take the polish off before she got home, but for once she didn’t care.

  “I love listening to the radio,” Jessica said. Music was a novelty since she was not allowed to have a radio or tape player in her room.

  “Oh my God, I love this song,” Marilee said and turned up the volume. After a few minutes of Marilee singing the song off tune and Jessica trying to memorize the words, Marilee turned the music to a hum and asked Jessica what happened at her house earlier.