Chapter 23
The box was the only thing that stirred Cindy.
Adriana had to use whatever means she could to snap the girl out of her diseased mental state. Adriana didn’t enjoy manipulation, but sometimes a good-natured controlling act was necessary. Even doctors do it sometimes. They might strap a girl into a straightjacket or inject her with drugs. So what was wrong with Adriana doing something gentler than that?
“If your parents love you, why’re you afraid of opening the box?”
Cindy didn’t answer.
“You have a rare gift, parents who really care.” She had to swallow hard after she said that. She hated lying, especially about Mary’s love because it was so sick. Adriana continued because it was for the best. “You should be able to face everything with courage.”
Cindy’s eyes shifted back and forth, then looked down at the box between her legs. “Some things weren’t meant to be faced. Some things need to be hidden.”
Adriana said sadly, “My parents’ aren’t here to love me. In fact my father hated me, but I’m not afraid to open the box.”
Her face turned bright red. “Be quiet! You’re stupid.” She paused to breathe heavily. “The box must stay closed.” She tightened her legs around it and placed both hands over the lid.
“I’m not stupid. You wouldn’t have gotten that ‘B’ in math if I hadn’t helped you.”
“Shut up.”
“What’s the matter? The truth scary?
She looked in Adriana’s eyes. “You don’t know the evil inside it.”
“Evil can’t be in a box. It’s in people.”
“It’s in there. I can feel it. I don’t know why you can’t, but I can.”
“Are you sure?” Adriana doubted.
“Of course I am.” She moved her hands and stared down at the box.
“But your parents love you.” Adriana heard herself pleading, hated it, but kept it up anyway. “Their love will protect you. You have to trust it. Love, after all, conquers all.”
“They do love me. I know that.” Her hands trembled beside the box.
She couldn’t believe how easily Cindy accepted her false words. She was sure her acting was terrible. She almost wished Cindy would call her on it. It had been horrific when she played in the school play last year as Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, receiving only laughter from the audience of students. “With love you can do anything. You have support. If you don’t get rid of the evil, the box may open on its own!”
Cindy's eyes widened.
“Or someone else may open it. Someone without their parents’ love. It’s best if you open it.”
“Their love is protecting.”
Adriana’s face squeezed into a sour grimace. She couldn’t believe her friend was buying all this bullshit. “Yes. It is. Go ahead.”
“It’s like shelter in a storm.”
“Better than shelter, like a bunker.”
“Home. I’m at home with them.”
Now Adriana was feeling almost as deceitful as Mary. She went this far only because she knew her motivation was different. She was lying out of love for her friend. She reminded herself she just wanted to bring Cindy back, not keep her under control. “Open the box, at least a crack, just to see a little bit.”
“Just a crack? Just to see if I can get rid of it, for good?”
“Yeah. A crack.” Adriana tugged on her binds, but they were tight.
She moved the box on top of her legs, and her fingers trembled as they traced the decorative designs. They slowly moved to the single latch on the top-front of the box. “Just a crack,” she repeated softly.
But right then, her mother walked in, carrying a steaming bowl of soup.
Cindy pushed the box back between her legs. Adriana wanted to cuss so badly, but she pressed her lips together and watched as Mary placed the soup on the table beside Cindy’s untouched water.
Mary sat across from Cindy. “The air is drier out here. You need more liquids.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Your father and I have a meeting we need to attend tonight. It’s all for you. We’re doing everything we can to raise the best daughter.”
“Thank you, Mom, for all your love.” She picked up the spoon with her right hand and slowly brought the steaming broth to her mouth, gently slurping.
Adriana almost jumped out of her pink skirt when Mary slapped Cindy across the face, sending the spoon flying across the room. “Don’t slurp,” Mary exclaimed. “It’s impolite. Do you want people to think we raised a pig?”
The girl touched her red cheek and quietly answered, head bowed, “No, of course not.”
“Why do you hate me so much?” Mary tilted her head back, raised her fisted hands high, and strained her voice to a crackle. “Why do you do these things to me?”
“I don’t hate you,” she protested. “I’m not trying to upset you."
"Look at your mess.” Mary rushed to the kitchen, ripped off a paper towel from a roll, and raced back to wipe the spilled soup on the seat, the tabletop, and the floor. She had missed the dribble that had fallen onto her daughter’s blue T-shirt. “You’re almost ten. You need to start behaving like it.” She rose with utter disgust on her face, threw the wadded towel into the trash, and stomped to the door.
Cindy lifted her head. In a thin, pleading voice, “You still love me, don’t you?”
The woman stopped dead in her tracks.
Adriana wished she had a shotgun right now. She would aim it at Mary’s legs and take one of them out to see how well she could manage being handicapped. No, that was bad. It was too much like her father, but she couldn’t help fantasizing about it anyway.
Mary turned slowly and assured, “Of course, I do. I’ll always love you.” She marched back to Cindy and squeezed her daughter’s hand.
Speaking mechanically and with razor coldness, Mary explained, “You know, sometimes I might have to be tough, but it’s for your own good. I’m just trying to teach you lessons to get along in society. I am teaching you things that are going to help. The Bible says consistent teaching and discipline are necessary for children. The house without discipline breeds disobedience and disrespect. Discipline is necessary so that you can function. I’m teaching you now in our home what will help you later in life. Everything I do is in your best interest, Cindy.” She raised the girl’s hand to her mouth and kissed the back of it, leaving a sloppy wet splotch.
Cindy’s eyes filled. “Thank you, Mommy. Thank you for caring for me.”
Adriana was about ready to puke. The air was so thick with lies that it pushed on her gag reflex.
“Now finish up. Mommy will be back soon to check on you. She loves you more than anyone.” Mary got up and left.
Cindy retrieved her spoon from the floor, rinsed it in the sink, and sat back at the table. She spooned soup into her mouth, carefully and quietly, her back straight as a board, her arm trembling, though not enough to spill the soup. The poor girl was terrified to make another mistake.
“Cindy,” Adriana whispered, “the box ... let’s see what’s inside now.”
But her foster sister wouldn’t look at her. Cindy just kept spooning soup.
Adriana felt defeated. Cindy’s mother appeared to have absolute control.
Adriana waited for her friend to finish eating. The girl seemed intent on accepting this gift of nurturance from her mother. When she was done, Adriana mustered as much determination as she could and lied, “They really love you, don’t they?”
“Yes. They do.”
“So, you have everything you need to peek into the box.”
Cindy turned toward her. “You’re just saying that so I’ll open it and let out the evil. You’re jealous of my mother.”
“No,” she said truthfully.
“You can just forget it.” She picked up her water glass and held it to her mouth, but didn’t drink.
“I just don’t want the evil to go on. I think you’re strong enough to get rid of it. You can’t keep the box safe forever. It’s going to break or someone else will open it. We have to deal with it.”
Cindy looked confused, torn, and then resolute. “My parents will know what to do. I’ll ask them.” She set the water down.
She was afraid of this. Whatever was in the box, Cindy’s parents would spoil like they did with everything. “You shouldn’t tell them. If they know, they might open it and get hurt.”
Cindy frowned. “You’re right.” She moved from the booth to sit on the floor, several feet from Adriana.
“You have to fight this now. If they find it when you’re at school, they’ll get hurt.”
She looked at the box between her legs. “I could bring it with me, wherever I go.”
“That’s impossible.”
Her hands fidgeted. Her index finger touched the latch then retracted as though touching fire. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t believe your parents love you?”
“No! I do.” She brought her finger to the latch quickly and flicked it back. She brought the box level with her nose. “Are you sure?” she said weakly.
“Yes.”
“You are my friend, right?”
“Of course.”
“You wouldn’t lie to me?”
Adriana felt horribly torn. She had to lie. There was no other way, but not about this. She could not lie about this. It felt like too much. She simply answered, “Just do it.”
Cindy opened it, millimeter by millimeter, her eyes close to the crack, peeking in, cheeks tight and red.
Suddenly she snapped it shut. She breathed fast and loud. “I’m not sure about this.”
“I understand.” Adriana sighed. “It’s difficult.”
“Maybe we can just hide it somewhere.” Her face relaxed.
“Stop trying to avoid it. That’s dangerous. We wouldn’t be able to see it, and something could sneak out.”
She hesitantly placed her fingers back on the lid. As it slowly rose, she moved her head closer to the crack. She let out a squeak, snapped the box shut, flipped the latch back on, set the box on the floor, and slid it behind her.
Her eyes closed as her breathing sped. She hunched her back and kept repeating, “It can’t be.... It can’t be.”
“Cindy?”
“It can’t.... It can’t be....”
“What did you see?”
“It can’t be true.... It can’t....”
“Cindy,” Adriana said louder.
She opened her eyes and tears spilled out. She crawled to Adriana like a cat that wants to be petted but is too afraid. “It was dark inside. Then I was back in my bedroom … in the dark … and ... someone was on top of me.
“You were here the whole time.”
“I don’t know what’s happening to me.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay. Something is very wrong.”
No duh, Adriana thought, frustrated that it took her friend this long to admit that. “What was inside?”
Her eyelids fluttered. She turned white. “More … terrible things ... I can’t …”
Adriana waited.
“Why did you tell me to look in the box?”
“I was trying to help.”
Disturbed understanding formed her face. “You want me to doubt my parents’ love, don’t you? What kind of friend would do that?”
She ignored Cindy’s accusations. “I think you did it wrong. You have to open the box all the way.”
“You want me to believe in lies. I know what’s in there now.” She scooted away from Adriana until her back touched the side of the booth seat. “I thought you were a friend.” She began sobbing.
Adriana felt rotten. She didn’t like her friend to go through pain. She felt like saying, throw the box away and never look into it again. But would a friend really do that? Would a friend sit by and let Cindy continue to slip into her abusers’ ugly grasp? She spoke, but her voice was thin and lacked determination. “I am your friend. Try again, but all the way.”
Cindy wouldn’t listen. She stuck the box between her legs, squeezing it tightly while crying.
The door to the room whipped open. Mary stormed inside. “What’s going on?”
Cindy continued to cry.
“What’s the matter?” She went to her daughter. “Stop sniffling.”
Cindy tried choking off her tears.
“Stop it! What do you want from me?”
Try dropping dead, thought Adriana, but she was too scared of Mary to let out a peep.
“I’m afraid, Mommy. I’m afraid to tell.”
“Tell me.” More gently, she insisted, “You can tell me.”
“But you might think I’m bad.”
“Go ahead. I’ll listen.”
“Mommy? Do you love me, really?”
“I told you earlier I do. Now stop this nonsense.”
“I looked in this box.” Cindy looked down. “It made me afraid … of you and Dad.”
Mary reached for the box, but Cindy put her hands on top of it and held it tight between her thighs. She warned, “No, Mommy. It’s bad.”
“Let go. I need to see.”
“I’m afraid. I’m afraid you won’t love me anymore if you look.”
“Stop being so weak and pathetic. You're making me sick.”
But Cindy held fast.
Mary cocked her hand back threateningly, but her daughter wouldn’t release the box. Her hand whacked against Cindy’s face, and the girl’s arms went to her cheeks as she cried out.
Mary tore the box from Cindy’s legs. She undid the latch, but something stopped her from opening it. She appeared … nervous.
She redid the latch and called for her husband several times. He came after a minute. “What?” he asked, irritated.
She held up the box.
“What am I supposed to do with that?”
“Cindy had it. She said it made her afraid of us.”
“Yeah? So?”
“We don’t know what’s inside.”
Joe turned to Cindy. “Where did you get it?”
Her hands lowered from her red cheeks. “A Black man gave it to me. At Grandma and Grandpa’s, when I was in the backyard.”
“A nigger?” Mary and Joe held the small box together, whispering among themselves.
Joe undid the latch and began to slowly open it. Cindy’s head bowed. Both Mary and her husband were staring at it. Before the box was even open a crack, they shut their eyes and rubbed them, screaming as though someone were sticking hot needles in their retinas. Joe barely managed to redo the latch, and he threw the box.
It landed next to Adriana.
Mary and her husband swatted their bodies, arms, and legs, and bumped into each other because their eyes were tightly shut. Adriana moved her leg over the box, hiding it.
After fifteen seconds of swatting themselves, the parents cracked their eyes open and glanced around the room for the box, but they gave up quickly, not seeming interested in finding it any time soon.
Adriana heard parts of their whispers. She caught something about Sharon and the man from the park having sent a nigger to deliver the box. Then she heard something that chilled her—about sending a dark mist to hurt Sharon and Laif.
Mary’s voice sped up and grew higher in pitch until she didn’t sound human anymore.