Marianne stood looking around the room she had shared with her little sister. It was much bigger than she remembered. Then she realized that the room was bigger because her sister’s matching twin bed had been removed from the room. The bed still had its childish spread covered with Disney characters. A crayon drawing that Shelby had tacked to the wall still hung in the same place. A picture of a red barn with huge trees at the corner. Marianne walked over and looked at it closely. She must have drawn the old farm where they had spent so many happy hours playing. The black cat clock with the big eyes and the tail that wagged back and forth was still on the wall. It still worked after all these years. She gazed at the dark closet where she had been forced to stand for many hours. Somehow, it did not terrify her as it had when she was a child. She left the door slightly ajar, turned to the bed, opened the little suitcase and tossed it onto her bed with a groan.
She had been there only a few hours and already she couldn't stand Rex. He seemed to enjoy irritating her, because he tried constantly. She didn't think she would ever get used to living with him. Not that she wanted to, he was infuriating! Anyway, she missed the cottage, where she was safe, enfolded by the plain green painted walls. She missed her friends.
"Hello, Funny Face. Busy?” Rex asked from the open doorway. She hated having him call her “Funny Face,” which, she figured was probably why he did it. "Yes." she said. She didn't feel like talking to him right then, but then she never did. In an effort to look busy, she started pulling clothing out of a box of clothes that Mavis had bought for her at a thrift store
“I guess you’re mad at me?” he queried. Marianne turned to look at him. His face was pallid and his jaw clenched. “I can’t blame you,” he said. “What did you think when I didn’t come to see you, all those years? ” He coughed a mucus cough and swallowed it. “How was I to know they would keep you so long?” He leaned against the door frame and the light from the window shone on his pale, sober face. “What a thing to do to a kid!”
Marianne looked at him without answering.
“It was as long for me as it was for you, Marianne. Every day I wondered what they were doing to you. How it was for you. I served every minute of those nine years with you. Each day I would say, this is the day she will come home. This is the day I will go to visit, but I just couldn’t do it.”
Shut up! Shut up before I hate you even more.
“You’ve got to try and understand, Marianne. If I’d seen you in there, I never could have faced anyone again. I could never have raised my head again.” His voice was pleading. She wanted to put her hands over her ears.
Shut up you stupid bastard, before I kill you! I’ll willingly go back to prison. The thought scared her. She had not even had the chance to enjoy her freedom yet. They would surely give her life in prison for another murder or maybe even the death penalty. No, it would not be worth it. Although the thought of seeing him suffer and die brought her great pleasure.
“I just couldn’t. I was here. I had to face everyone every day, live with the neighbors. I had my own life to live. You didn’t have to deal with that. You were locked up, you were hidden. You don’t know what it was like. Like being naked in public.”
He turned and lit a cigarette. “Say something, Goddamn it! You’ve got the right to say something after all these years. You’re mad at me aren’t you?”
“No.” It was hard for her to move her lips.
“No. Just no? That’s all?” His eyes seemed to lose focus for a second, then he rubbed his hands over them, and when he looked at her again, his gaze was self-deprecating, sad.
“No, I’m not mad at you,” she squeaked out.
“You say no, calmly like you don’t feel anything. Like you are dead.”
I am dead. I’m numb, no feelings, no life. Dead. I don’t feel anything.
“Dr. Woodall said it was harmful to be mad at anyone. That it poisons you inside. And I learned about forgiveness at church.”
“Geez, what did they do to you? You wouldn’t believe all the things that went through my mind while you were in there. Shock treatments, hypnotism, truth serum. Did they do any of that to you? What exactly did they do to you to make you so quiet?”
They tied me to the bed.
They paddled me until my flesh cracked and bled.
And then the questions. Endless questions.
“I can still hear your screams when they took you away that day.” He hiccupped, a kind of dry sob. “I lay awake at night and I hear your screams. Every night for nearly ten years, I’ve heard your screams in my sleep.” Drops of sweat formed on his face. “I hear your screams everywhere. I’m watching TV, I hear your screams, I’m drinking a beer and I hear your screams. The only time I don’t hear them is when I’m screwing.”
Aww, poor guy. I kept you from sleeping while my flesh was stinging from whippings and fell asleep with tears soaking my pillow for all those years.
“How could you stand it in there, Marianne? I remember when your mother locked you in the closet. You couldn’t stand being closed in. You came out shaking, jabbering nonsense. I could see your heart beating like it was going to explode out of your chest. How could you stand it, being locked up in there?”
Like I had a choice.
“Were you able to sleep Marianne?” He broke off, shaking with hiccups. He moved toward her to the bed where she sat, frozen, unable to speak, unable to move.
What is wrong with me? Why can’t I move? Scream at him, defend myself like a normal person?
He crouched in a half kneeling position. “What do you remember Marianne?”
“About what?”
“About the day they took you away. It was on a Saturday. Do you remember that Marianne?”
“I can’t remember it. Bill said my unconscious mind was blocking it out because it was too painful to remember.”
“Did they tell you not to talk about it?”
“No. They said it would help me to heal to talk about it, but I can’t remember anything to talk about. Just Mom finding me and Shelby in the garage.”
“You remember hanging onto me don’t you? Begging me to stop them from taking you.”
“No.”
“Do you remember anything between you and me?”
There’s a great gush of something between my legs.
“You told me it wouldn’t be a very long time.”
“Aaaah, you remember me telling you it wouldn’t be for long. And you think I lied to you. Listen to me, Marianne. I didn’t think it would be for very long. How could I know they would keep you for such a long time? Did you count the days?”
She placed her hands firmly on the bed on each side of her. That was steadying somehow and kept her from striking out at him.
I wonder if he knows how very much I hate him?
“No. Not then. I counted them today in Dr. Woodall’s office.”
“Do you know why they kept you so long?”
His breathing was raspy. He looked at her without meeting her eyes.
“Dr. Woodall said that I was denying the whole thing. He said he couldn’t help me until I admitted responsibility for what happened.”
Rex moved to the side of the bed and stood looking down at her. He looked around for an ashtray. Not finding one, he took the lid from a small ceramic jewelry box to use for an ashtray. He sat down at her small desk, crossed his legs and turned to her again.
“Listen carefully. They kept you there such a long time, not because of what you did, but because of your high jinx while you were in there. Your mother came up to see you and they turned her away because you were in restraints for hitting a girl. Another time she came to visit, they wouldn’t let her see you because you had cut yourself. Do you remember that?”
Marianne swallowed hard. “No,” she lied.
He jabbed the cigarette out and stood up. He grabbed her wrists, turning them up and staring at them.. “What did you cut yourself with? They let you have razor blades?”
“No. I broke my plastic toothbrush glass.”
“Geez. A ten year old trying to commit suicide.”
“I was thirteen. Why are you asking all these questions?”
“Because I have to know how much you suffered. You must have thought you were in hell.”
“Hell is forever. That was only ten years.”
Sweat broke out on his face again. Marianne watched the beads of sweat turn into tiny rivulets than ran down his face and dropped off. Her nostrils flinched from a strong odor like ammonia. He wiped at it with the palm of his hands.
“I don’t sleep good anymore, Marianne. When I finally fall asleep, I have nightmares.” He turned and braced himself on the back of the chair as if he needed the chair to keep him from falling down.
“What do you dream about?” she asked.
“What do you think I dream about? I dream about you being in that place all those years. I dream about Shelby lying dead on the garage floor.” He picked up the chair, held it in a tight grip.
“What’s the matter? What are you staring at?” He asked then noticed the chair in his hands. “I could smash it,” he said. “Is that what you’re thinking? You don’t think I would hit you with it, do you?” He put the chair down softly. “Now look what you made me do. You made me lose my temper your first day back.”
“Did you want me to come back?” she asked meekly. She didn’t want him to become violent.
“Dammit, Marianne! You’re going to make me lose my temper again. If I didn’t want you here, you wouldn’t be here. They said you could only be discharged if someone took responsibility for you for a year while you were on parole. It could have been someplace else. A group home or a halfway house. Mavis and I talked it over and decided that this was your home and you should come back here. Your mother agreed to see your doctor. They wanted us both to go. ‘Family counseling,’ they called it. I refused. Told them you were the one that was nutty, not me. Mavis talked to Dr. Woodall a few times. I told her she better be careful or they would commit her too.”
“You’re feeling better now,” Marianne said.
His jaw tightened. “I gave your mother the money to buy those clothes you are wearing.”
“Thank you for them”
“I don’t want thanks, but I was beginning to wonder if you knew where they came from. I didn’t want you coming back here wearing prison clothes.”
“Mom told me.”
“I just don’t want to be treated like I did something wrong. I’ll level with you,”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know I don’t have to. I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do.” He was getting angry again. His jaw clenched and he ground his teeth together. “You are so different,” he said. “I don’t know what I thought. I think I thought you would still be my little funny face,” he said. “I always loved you. Mavis didn’t like it. I think she was jealous of the attention I gave you.” He lit another cigarette.
“I hardly know you now.” He shook his head as if he had an earache. “You’re someone I don’t know. I don’t know how this is going to work out. A kid is one thing but an adult is another. You’re twenty-one years old, taller than your mother. A grown up.” He took a long drag from his Camel, then coughed a phlegm filled cough. “Your mother and I have gotten used to being alone. Things have been better since there were no kids here. Sex is better, everything is better.” He looked at her, but Marianne thought it was more like a leer. “Kids in the house make some women nervous. When I first met your mother she was so hot for me. One time when we were out shopping she came into the dressing room with me and wanted it right there. I turned her on. She couldn’t be natural with kids in the house.” He cleared his throat and swallowed hard. “She would say I shouldn’t be talking to you like this.” He took a long draw from his cigarette and snuffed it out. “She already had you when I met her. After we got married, Josh’s mother died and I took him to live with us. I’m not a monster, you know.” He took a deep breath. “Even with the doors closed, your mother couldn’t forget you kids were in the house. Now she’s more relaxed. She damn well knows that if she wants to keep me home, there needs to be some action. She’s a little older, a little fatter, but she’s still a good lay.”
“She thinks she hasn’t changed at all,” Marianne said.
“Well, she’s had a lot happen to change her. She was a good mother. She fought me over you kids.” He frowned, drawing his eyebrows close together. “Now we have to get used to having someone new in the house.” He flexed his muscles and his shirt went tight across his chest.
“I always thought you were the strongest man in the world,” she said.
“Now what in the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” she said.
“It must mean something or you wouldn’t have said it. I never laid a hand on you. You aren’t trying to say that I did, are you? I’ll deny everything! You were the one in the looney bin, not me. Who do you think they will believe? You or me?”
“I’m strong too.” She stood up and looked at him. He backed away and went to stand in the doorway.
“I have to go now. I have to see a man about a job that I might be able to do under the table, if you know what I mean. I do a little remodeling when my back is alright. I get a couple of guys to do the work for me. It helps out. We’re doing alright now. Between my disability check, what Mavis brings in and the extra I make.”
“You needn’t bother making me anything to eat. I will pick up something while I’m out. I don’t know how long I’ll be. There’s plenty of deli stuff left for you. If not, look in the freezer. Fix what you like.” He was leaning on the doorjamb now. “You know enough to not leave the house at night. Maybe it would be better if you don’t even talk to anyone at all for a while. I don’t care if you are grown! While you’re in my house, you will do as I say. You’ll abide by the rules, you understand?”
She went to the door and slammed it in his face. Leaning against it she could hear him sigh and head down the hall. Minutes later she heard his truck crunch the gravel in the driveway as he left.