right.”
“Jason, I’m serious.”
“I am, too. Look, I like you.
What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing.” Like? I winced
thinking of my declaration of love. How could I expose myself like that? “It’s
just not practical.”
He laughed. “Not practical? That’s
your argument?”
“You know I’m never going to sleep
with you.”
“So?”
“So I know that’s what you want.”
“Of course it’s what I want.”
“Well?”
“But you and I are friends,” Jason
said.
“Right,” I said.
“So why can’t we hang out?”
Because you touched my breast.
And I liked it. “Because I can’t trust you anymore.”
“I trust you.”
“Great. That’s because you know I
have morals.”
“No, it’s because I know you’re
smart.”
That one hit me. Who doesn’t want
to hear a guy tell her she’s smart?
“Lizzie?”
I could feel myself softening. “Yeah?”
“Tell me the truth. You liked it.”
Ugh. Why did he have to ask? “It’s
really none of your business.”
“Of course it’s my business.”
“It was a mistake,” I repeated.
“What you’re doing right now?” he
answered. “ This is the mistake.”
[3]
Saturday night. So far so good. I
made meatloaf from my mother’s recipe and my brother ate it like it was the
last meal of a doomed boy.
Which, in a way, it was.
After dinner the two of us retired
to the family room to watch Mikey’s favorite show, Space Chargers .
We were half way into it when the
family room door opened.
“Come on,” my father said to Mikey.
Mikey glanced at me and went back
to watching his show.
“Come on,” my father insisted.
“Where?” I asked on behalf of my
brother.
“Time for his shower,” said my
father, defiantly meeting my eye.
Mikey stood, the condemned boy
whose sister did nothing to stop it, and dragged his feet down the hall to my
parents’ bedroom. My father followed. I followed.
I listened outside my parents’
door. I heard the shower come on. I heard the two of them talking, then the
shower door opening and closing, and from then on their voices were muted.
I stood there frozen by my own
fear. I stood mute, knowing I should scream or call the police or call my
mother or do something.
When the shower shut off I hurried
back to the family room. Mikey came in a few minutes later. His wet hair
stood on end. He wouldn’t meet my eye.
My little brother depended on me.
Who else was going to take care of him now? And I had failed him utterly.
What should I do? Call 911? And
then what? Police here, forcing Mikey to make a confession, forcing me to tell
what I knew, and if all went well, our father being taken away in handcuffs
while Mikey and I sat orphaned trying to figure out how we’d buy our groceries.
I hated my mother so much at that
moment. None of it would have happened if she had kept her skirt down. And
now she was off enjoying her new life with her spectacular new lover, secure in
the knowledge that her sixteen-year-old daughter could manage every duty of the
household, including separating the men from the boys.
I hated my father most of all.
What would he say if I confronted him? Sodomy is a word in the Bible—that
means I can use it .
After a while Mikey put himself to
bed and I should have gone in with him. I should have sat on his bed next to
him and said, “This is wrong, Mikey. I’m taking you away.”
But instead I retreated into my own
cowardice. I hid in my room and slipped a chair under the knob of my door and
lay on my bed knowing I was the worst sistermankind had ever created.
[4]
I couldn’t tell Posie. I just
couldn’t.
Either thing.
Not about Jason—I knew she’d be
disappointed in me. She has such high standards.
And I couldn’t tell her about my
father and Mikey, either.
There are friends you have who you
know are better than you. They just are. Maybe they’re better looking
“Jason, I’m serious.”
“I am, too. Look, I like you.
What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing.” Like? I winced
thinking of my declaration of love. How could I expose myself like that? “It’s
just not practical.”
He laughed. “Not practical? That’s
your argument?”
“You know I’m never going to sleep
with you.”
“So?”
“So I know that’s what you want.”
“Of course it’s what I want.”
“Well?”
“But you and I are friends,” Jason
said.
“Right,” I said.
“So why can’t we hang out?”
Because you touched my breast.
And I liked it. “Because I can’t trust you anymore.”
“I trust you.”
“Great. That’s because you know I
have morals.”
“No, it’s because I know you’re
smart.”
That one hit me. Who doesn’t want
to hear a guy tell her she’s smart?
“Lizzie?”
I could feel myself softening. “Yeah?”
“Tell me the truth. You liked it.”
Ugh. Why did he have to ask? “It’s
really none of your business.”
“Of course it’s my business.”
“It was a mistake,” I repeated.
“What you’re doing right now?” he
answered. “ This is the mistake.”
[3]
Saturday night. So far so good. I
made meatloaf from my mother’s recipe and my brother ate it like it was the
last meal of a doomed boy.
Which, in a way, it was.
After dinner the two of us retired
to the family room to watch Mikey’s favorite show, Space Chargers .
We were half way into it when the
family room door opened.
“Come on,” my father said to Mikey.
Mikey glanced at me and went back
to watching his show.
“Come on,” my father insisted.
“Where?” I asked on behalf of my
brother.
“Time for his shower,” said my
father, defiantly meeting my eye.
Mikey stood, the condemned boy
whose sister did nothing to stop it, and dragged his feet down the hall to my
parents’ bedroom. My father followed. I followed.
I listened outside my parents’
door. I heard the shower come on. I heard the two of them talking, then the
shower door opening and closing, and from then on their voices were muted.
I stood there frozen by my own
fear. I stood mute, knowing I should scream or call the police or call my
mother or do something.
When the shower shut off I hurried
back to the family room. Mikey came in a few minutes later. His wet hair
stood on end. He wouldn’t meet my eye.
My little brother depended on me.
Who else was going to take care of him now? And I had failed him utterly.
What should I do? Call 911? And
then what? Police here, forcing Mikey to make a confession, forcing me to tell
what I knew, and if all went well, our father being taken away in handcuffs
while Mikey and I sat orphaned trying to figure out how we’d buy our groceries.
I hated my mother so much at that
moment. None of it would have happened if she had kept her skirt down. And
now she was off enjoying her new life with her spectacular new lover, secure in
the knowledge that her sixteen-year-old daughter could manage every duty of the
household, including separating the men from the boys.
I hated my father most of all.
What would he say if I confronted him? Sodomy is a word in the Bible—that
means I can use it .
After a while Mikey put himself to
bed and I should have gone in with him. I should have sat on his bed next to
him and said, “This is wrong, Mikey. I’m taking you away.”
But instead I retreated into my own
cowardice. I hid in my room and slipped a chair under the knob of my door and
lay on my bed knowing I was the worst sistermankind had ever created.
[4]
I couldn’t tell Posie. I just
couldn’t.
Either thing.
Not about Jason—I knew she’d be
disappointed in me. She has such high standards.
And I couldn’t tell her about my
father and Mikey, either.
There are friends you have who you
know are better than you. They just are. Maybe they’re better looking
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