Deviation, Breaking the Pattern #1

by P.D. Workman

CHAPTER SEVEN

  HENRY SAT IN THE cafeteria eating his sandwich, not looking at or talking to anyone else. He had his elbows on the table, both holding onto the sandwich, and he just stared at the sandwich or at the top of the table.

  “Henry. Hey, Henry.”

  He became aware that someone was trying to get his attention, and looked up. It was Tony. His face was open and friendly.

  “Yeah?” he answered cautiously.

  “Can you do me a favor?”

  “I dunno,” Henry stalled. “What?”

  “Well, my brother, he invited me to this party at his frat house. If I go by myself, I’m just gonna be some guy’s kid brother. But if I go with some friends, maybe I can have a good time.” The last words sounded like a question. Tony raised his eyebrows hopefully.

  “I dunno. I can’t really go out at night,” Henry said, thinking of Bobby.

  Tony raised his brows.

  “Never?” he questioned quizzically.

  “Maybe,” Henry said, not wanting to make Tony more curious about his life. “I’ll try. Let me know where and when.”

  “Sure,” Tony agreed, breaking into a cheerful grin.

  “Who else is going?” Henry questioned.

  “Andrew for sure. One or two others, maybe. I don’t know that many people yet.”

  Henry nodded.

  “I’ll see what I can do. I’m not sure.”

  “Great! Hope you can make it!”

  Dorry was watching TV. Henry hadn’t seen Clint around. Maybe he was working, or out at the bar or something. Henry stood in the doorway watching her for a few minutes, trying to get up his courage.

  “Mom?” he said tentatively.

  She looked up from the TV show.

  “What is it, honey?”

  “Can I talk to you about something?”

  She muted the TV.

  “Sure. What’s up?”

  “It’s about Frank.”

  Her face fell; smile disappearing like it had never been there to start with.

  “I don’t want to hear anything else about Frank,” she growled.

  “I lied to you,” Henry confessed.

  “I know you did.”

  “He… confused me. But… it’s true… what you said,” Henry spoke with difficulty, stumbling over his words and trying to sort out what to say to her.

  “You might have to testify in court. If they lay additional charges,” she looked into his face. “Is that what you want?”

  “I don’t know if I could,” Henry said quietly.

  She nodded understandingly.

  “I could hardly stand to testify all those years ago.” She picked up her drink and swallowed down a few gulps, staring at the muted TV show instead of looking at him. “It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But I had to do it to put him away. It was the only way.”

  “But he’s already behind bars. I don’t have to testify, do I?”

  “No. You don’t,” she looked at him wistfully, and he didn’t think she was going to say anything further. “My poor sweetie,” she murmured. “When you were a baby, I figured we could put this behind us. You’d grow up, start to forget, not be permanently scarred by it. But now, this time… you’re going to carry it with you forever, into every relationship.”

  Henry was embarrassed. He fussed with his collar, straightening it and scraping at a fleck of food with his nail.

  “I’m not scarred,” he objected, his face hot and sweat making his shirt cling to him. “It wasn’t that big a deal. Just… touching… experimenting. Not… not anything… serious.”

  “Do you know what he did when you were little?” she said in a strangled tone.

  Henry shook his head. He bit his tongue before letting slip that Frank wouldn’t tell him. She didn’t know that he had been to see Frank, getting in with a forged letter of permission.

  “Do you want to know?” she questioned, looking away from Henry, trying to keep her composure.

  Henry nodded uncertainly.

  “Yeah, sort of,” he said uncomfortably.

  He didn’t know why he couldn’t remember, but it seemed like a betrayal, that his brain would hide the details away, making him think that his time with Frank had been innocent, and special. Instead of… whatever it was. He couldn’t help thinking that everyone was just over-reacting misinterpreting something that had a perfectly innocent explanation.

  “I can’t talk to you about it,” Dorry said, licking dry lips and swallowing. “It’s too hard. But I have copies of court documents. If you want to read them.”

  Henry breathed out. He could stand that. He didn’t have to listen to her maligning Frank; he could just read it, from clinical, unemotional pages.

  “Yeah. Just show me where they are. And if I want to read them, I can.”

  “Okay,” she agreed.

  Why did Henry do it? Why did he go to her and lie about it? To get back at Frank? Henry didn’t know if he could lie and testify against Frank in open court. But he was angry. He hated Frank for what he’d done. He wasn’t even sure what Frank had done. But now he could find out. And if he wanted to, he could punish Frank and put him away for an even longer time.

  Henry checked again to see that he had everything that Bobby would need in the diaper bag, and some extra just in case. Did he want to go through with it? He’d never been invited to a party, much less a frat party. If he didn’t take the opportunity, it might never come again. It was his one chance to do something like the popular kids, to be one of the in crowd.

  Henry walked up to the decrepit building and knocked on the door. An older, heavy woman answered the door. She looked Henry over and motioned him in.

  “You’d better come inside.”

  Henry stepped in. There was a lot of noise inside, women and children’s voices, and baby’s cries. The air smelled like warm soup and sweat.

  “I need to leave Bobby here for a while,” Henry said uncertainly.

  “How long? This is only short-term respite.”

  “I know. Just a few hours overnight. I’ll pick him up later tonight, or in the morning.”

  “While you go on a date?” she questioned suspiciously, studying him.

  “I was told ‘no questions asked’ if I brought him here.”

  She flushed a little and nodded, grimacing.

  “You’re absolutely right,” she agreed. “We don’t get a lot of young men here. Usually only women. You need someone to look after him for a while. Bringing him here is a responsible choice.”

  Henry breathed a sigh of relief. He wiped his forehead.

  “What’s baby’s name?” she questioned briskly, pulling out a paper form and a pen.

  “Bobby.”

  “And is he your son?”

  Henry hesitated.

  “Does it make a difference?” he queried.

  “No.”

  “He’s my brother.”

  “Mom’s not around?”

  Henry shrugged and didn’t give her any details.

  “Okay,” she said, not pushing for more information “You have everything we’ll need in the bag?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Food, bottles, diapers?”

  “Some extra clothes, too,” Henry said, nodding.

  “Great. Let’s get the two of you tagged.”

  “Tagged?” Henry repeated.

  “For security, hon’. We will only release a child to the person who brought him in, or to the police. Someone who shows up demanding access, too bad. We give you each a bracelet. They have to match for the child to be released.”

  She got out a couple of plastic, colored bracelets, and wrote an identification number on each.

  “Couldn’t someone just copy the bracelets? What if I have to take it off and you see it’s been cut?”

  “You give me a password. Something you won’t forget, but that no one else will know. Not a birthdate.”

  “Frank.”

  “Not a pet’s name or something someo
ne would guess?”

  “No,” Henry shook his head. No one would ever guess that he’d use Frank’s name. He wasn’t sure why he was, but he told himself it was because nobody could guess.

  “Does Bobby have any medical conditions?”

  “No.”

  “Anyone that you need to keep away from? That we should call the police about if they show up?”

  He was lucky that he didn’t have to deal with some stalker or ex-husband like some of the women who came here must. He might have the extra responsibility of taking care of Bobby, but at least he didn’t have to worry about some abusive partner chasing after him. He had it easy compared to that.

  “No.”

  “Okay.”

  Bobby was fast asleep, long lashes resting on his rosy cheeks, lips pursed. Henry kissed him goodbye on the forehead, and left.

  Tony was hyped up, excited about going to the party. He had a crazy grin, and was bouncing around on his heels, making jokes and then laughing at them. Henry wasn’t so sure how he felt. Mostly nervous. Out of place. But a little excited too.

  “I hope some of the others meet us there,” Tony said. “I want to have a good time. I mean, you and me will have a good time, but even better if there’s more of us,” he added quickly.

  Henry nodded.

  “Yeah, that’d be good,” he agreed. He looked at his watch. “Let’s go,” he encouraged, anxious to be on their way before he could change his mind. Tony looked at the time on his phone and nodded.

  “Bus should be here in five minutes,” he said.

  They left the house—Tony bouncing, and Henry walking sedately—and waited at the bus stop.

  Ned looked like a mirror image of Tony, only older. Henry knew instantly that he was Tony’s brother.

  “Hey li’l’ brother,” Ned greeted Tony, when he saw the two of them come in. “Glad you made it. You and your friend go help yourself to some jello.”

  “Jello?” Henry repeated, his brows drawing down in a frown.

  Ned laughed at his look.

  “Jello shooters. It’s a frat thing. They’re made with alcohol instead of water.”

  “Oh. Yeah.”

  Henry felt stupid. He had heard of jello shooters before. But he’d never had them. Ned laughed again, and pointed.

  “Over there. Just remember it ain’t like your mom’s jello,” he warned.

  Tony and Henry went over to the jello tub and tried some out. Tony grimaced.

  “They’re not so bad,” he said, his wrinkled nose telling another story.

  Henry shrugged.

  “I dunno. Kind of strange,” he admitted.

  There wasn’t much for them to do yet, and they had a few more shooters before Andrew got there. He was with a girl.

  “That’s his sister,” Tony said as he watched them approach with a scowl. “She’s weird. I dunno what he brought her for.”

  Henry went to get them shooters. When he got back, Andrew’s sister had cut her finger on something.

  “Kiss it,” she told Andrew, shoving her finger in his face.

  Andrew turned his face away in distaste.

  “Get out of here, Liz!”

  She pouted.

  “I said kiss it,” she insisted in a baby voice, pushing the injury to his lips. “Do it,” she insisted, clinging to his arm with her other hand.

  Andrew kissed it impatiently and pushed her away. Henry was uncomfortable with the bizarrely intimate scene. He waited until the couple separated, and then approached Andrew with the shooters. Since he’d gotten two, they each had one. Andrew caught Henry staring at him.

  “What? I get a big zit on my nose?” he demanded in irritation.

  “No. It’s just… you and your sister…” Henry stumbled for the right words.

  “What about us?” Andrew said impatiently, slurping down the jello.

  “You look like… you look like…”

  Andrew shook his head.

  “How many of those have you had? Just what are you trying to say?”

  The alcohol was too much for Henry. He tried to formulate a tactful question in his mind but the words escaped his loose lips before he had a chance.

  “You sleeping with her, or what?”

  Andrew’s eyes widened in shock, and his jaw dropped.

  “How did you know that?” he questioned in astonishment.

  Henry couldn’t believe it.

  “She’s your sister!” he protested, drawing back from Andrew a step in horror.

  “You think I don’t know that?” Andrew whispered harshly, leaning close to him and breathing in his face. “You got no idea how much I want her to leave me alone!”

  “Then just stay away from her,” Henry insisted.

  “You don’t know how it is. It started when we were little. You know, playin’ doctor, being curious. But as soon as we were old enough to know it was wrong, she started blackmailing me. Saying she’d tell what I’d done if I wouldn’t do what she wanted.”

  “And she wanted you to…?”

  “Yeah. I’ve tried to set her up with other guys, to get her off my case. But no one wants anything to do with her,” Andrew’s voice cracked with emotion. He blinked rapidly then stared across the room at her. Henry studied her.

  “If she was better looking, I could get rid of her,” Andrew said.

  She wasn’t ugly. But she wasn’t pretty, either. She was flat-chested, had a long, angular nose, and limp, straight hair. She wasn’t wearing any makeup.

  “I would do anything to get rid of her. I wish someone would teach her a lesson. Show her what it’s like, what she does.”

  Henry shook his head uncomfortably.

  “I can’t believe it.”

  “It’s not my fault,” Andrew maintained.

  “If it’s her, why don’t you just tell someone?”

  “You think anyone’s gonna believe she’s the aggressor? I’m older and I’m the guy. No one’s ever gonna believe me. Not ever.”

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