Forbidden Sister (18 page)

“I’m all right, Mama. You didn’t have to get up this early. You know I can look after myself.”

“Of course you can. I’ve got to see our accountant and our attorney today. I have their first appointment of the day,” she explained.

“Why do you have to do everything so quickly? You need to rest, Mama,” I said.

“Things have to be done now,” she insisted.

I wanted to ask why. Were we in some sort of financial trouble? Surely, with Papa’s success and his life insurance, we would be fine. Were there things they had kept hidden from me? Whatever it was, she shouldn’t have to bear the brunt of it all alone, I thought, but I could see that continuing the discussion would only tire her out. I ate my breakfast and kissed her before I started out for school. When I hugged her, she seemed to be trembling, but she forced a quick smile and, as usual, told me to be careful. She used Papa’s favorite expression: “Stay alert. You’re always on guard duty.”

“Yes,” I said. We smiled at each other even though our hearts were heavy.

Chastity had e-mailed me a list of all the work I
had missed, but I hadn’t done a single thing. I had little or no enthusiasm for school and even walked like someone who was walking in her sleep, someone really not sure where she was going. When I saw the school ahead of me, I almost turned away to spend the day wandering the city, maybe hanging out in Central Park. Chances were good that no one at school would call about me, because they all would think I was still in mourning. But Chastity did know I was coming, and if she called to see where I was, Mama would be terribly frightened.

From the moment I arrived, I saw how differently my classmates were looking at me. Some actually seemed terrified to speak to me. It was as if they thought they could say something or do something that would send me into hysterical sobbing for which they would be blamed. They forced smiles, asked how I was, but as quickly as they could, they moved away. Meanwhile, Chastity acted like some sort of bodyguard, answering for me or guiding me along. She was always looking for a way to feel important, and my tragic situation gave her a new opportunity. I couldn’t have cared any less about that or anything else involving my classmates.

I didn’t see Evan until lunch. The moment he set eyes on me, he broke away from his friends and approached while Chastity was getting our food.

“I was really sorry and shocked to hear about your dad,” he began. “Please tell your mother how sorry I am.”

“Thank you.”

I avoided looking at him, but whether he felt guilty about the way he had treated me or was simply curious, he followed with, “Does your sister know?”

I paused. I had all sorts of angry responses piling up on my tongue, but I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter if she does or doesn’t, Evan. That won’t bring back my father,” I said, and joined Chastity at our usual table. He didn’t follow.

“What did he want?” Chastity asked.

“Nothing,” I said. “I don’t want to talk about him or hear about him,” I told her so firmly that she quickly nodded. “None of these kids interests me anymore. I don’t care what any of them have to say, so don’t bring me any gossip.”

Because of the look on my face and the tone in my voice, she hardly said a word during the remainder of the lunch hour. I’m sure she thought I was like a tube of nitroglycerin. It would take the slightest nudge to see me explode.

My teachers thought so, too. They were all quite sympathetic and considerate, speaking extra softly. None demanded anything of me. All told me to take my time and come to them if I ever needed some extra help. The truth was, my interest in being a very good student had waned with Papa’s passing. I think I achieved my high grades for him as much as for myself. Mama wanted me to do well, too, but I knew she would readily accept Bs, even Cs, now.

Every day that followed seemed as gray and dull as the previous one. They all ran together like one long day, in fact. Once I reached school in the morning, my
body tightened. It was as if I had gone into rigor mortis along with Papa. I imagined I looked like someone simply going through the motions. I never raised my hand to answer a question, and none of my teachers called on me. It was as if I was in an invisible cubicle. In fact, it wasn’t long before friends who had tried to reconnect began to act as if I weren’t there. I suppose I wasn’t. I mean, my body was there, but my mind drifted so much and so often that most of the time, I didn’t hear them speak. A few times, someone asked me a question and even repeated it, but I didn’t respond. They all looked at one another and at Chastity, shrugged, and then went on to something else.

As this continued, I could see their attitude toward me harden further. Whatever pass they had given me because of my father’s death gradually disappeared. I was just annoying to them now. It was easier to leave me out of conversations or plans. It reinforced the feeling that I had become invisible. At first, Chastity didn’t mind, because she was usually left out of everything anyway, but I soon felt sorrier for her than I did for myself. She was left with only me again, and I wasn’t good company. She might as well be alone.

Evan and his friends were another story. I had no idea what sort of things he had told them during the short time we had been seeing each other. I had a dreadful suspicion that he might have exaggerated the way I knew some boys did in order to appear more sophisticated than their friends, bragging about sexual relations or something.

Now that some time had passed since my father’s
death, my forbidden sister was fair game again. At least a half dozen of Evan’s friends came right out and asked me if Roxy had been invited back into our family. Some of the boys began to make remarks in the hallways.

“Is she working out of your house?”

“What’s her number? How much does she cost?”

Dirty notes were left in my desks or slipped into my hall locker. I thought if I ignored it all, it would go away, but it was as if my mere presence in the school was enough to keep it alive forever.

Despite what I had told her, Chastity returned to passing along the gossip she heard. What was too horrible to mention weeks ago in light of what had happened to my family was suddenly headline news again. I didn’t have to hear it to know what my fellow students were saying. I could see it in their licentious smiles and the whispering when they looked my way.

Not satisfied with their titillation and sick humor, some of Evan’s friends began hitting on me, crudely inviting me to do all sorts of sexual acts. I could sense that this was some sort of new game they had concocted, who could be more disgusting and attract my attention. They might even have taken bets on who would get me to go out with him. Most of the time, I simply ignored them. Some just laughed when I said, “No, thanks,” but one boy, Martin Horton, got nasty.

“Who do you think you are?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your sister is a prostitute, and you act like Princess Purity?”

“It’s not hard to act that way when someone like you acts like an ass,” I said, and walked away to the sound of loud laughter.

How I hate it here now,
I thought, and sucked back my tears.

It was doubly difficult because I didn’t want to go home looking so down and unhappy every day. Mama was still going through her own depression and sadness. I knew she was anticipating my arrival after school in the hope that I would cheer her up. I had to put on the best act I could and invent good news. What was really upsetting me now was that Roxy had not responded in any way to my letter. Every time I heard the phone ring at home or when anyone came to the front door, I still anticipated her. I always expected that Mama would greet me after school with the news that Roxy had been there, but that never happened.

It got so that even if she was angered by my letter, I’d be happy. Anything was better than nothing, better than treating us as if we didn’t exist. Surely, that desk clerk had given it to her. How could she be so cold and unforgiving, especially since she knew I had come to her hotel and could come again?

A few times, I almost came out and told Mama what I had done, but I thought it would upset her even more. After all, she had tried, too. One night, I caught her sitting in her bedroom looking at one of the pictures of Roxy she had hidden from Papa. She was staring so hard at the photo that I expected she would break into sobs, but she just took a deep breath and put the picture back into a drawer.

Chastity tried to get me to talk about Roxy a number of times. She was as subtle about it as she could be, which wasn’t very. She would say something like “I wonder if your sister really doesn’t know what’s happened to your father.” Or she would pause when we were walking home and say, “That woman reminds me of your sister.”

I never responded, so she didn’t continue, but finally, one afternoon when we were studying for a test together at my house, she put down her notebook and glared at me in a way I had never seen her glare.

“What?”

“I know you’re going to get angry at me, and I know you might tell me to get out and never speak to me again.”

“What is it, Chastity?” I said, putting my notes aside, too. She sat there dumbly. “Just spit it out already.”

“I saw your sister two days ago.”

“What? Where?”

“Coming out of her hotel and getting into a limousine. She looked very dressed up. I’m only telling you,” she continued quickly, “because I thought maybe she really doesn’t know about your father. I mean, maybe she doesn’t read the newspaper or—”

“You went back there to spy on her?”

“Just for you,” she said. “I knew you wouldn’t go there, and I thought maybe—”

“Maybe what? What good would that do? You weren’t planning on talking to her, were you?”

She didn’t respond.

“You were?”

“Just for you, Emmie,” she repeated.

I shook my head. “You won’t let go of this, will you? You’re just as sick as the rest of them.”

“No, that’s not it. Really. I was thinking about you and your mother and how good it would be if somehow your sister came around and maybe apologized or something. She’s got to be sorry your father died, right?”

I looked away.

“I’m just thinking of you,” she whined.

Yeah, right,
I thought
. You just want something to jazz up your boring life.

Was there really such a thing as a best friend, or was that just another of life’s illusions? I was surely an expert on why best friends could be better than relatives, but the real reason for why best friends did things was often not easy to understand. Maybe we should say “the best possible friend” instead of “best friend.”

“I went to my sister’s hotel, and I left her a message,” I said after a long pause.

“You did? When?”

“About a month ago. I went in just as she was getting into the elevator.”

“Did she see you? Speak to you?” she quickly asked.

“No, but I went directly to the desk clerk and told him I had just seen her, so there was no point in his denying her existence.”

“Wow.”

“So, you see, there is no reason for you to go there anymore, Chastity. In fact, you’d be embarrassing my mother and me if you ever did speak to her, understand? It would be like begging her to give us her time.”

“You left her a letter?”

“It was more than a letter. She once gave me a charm bracelet, and I put it in the envelope. I told the desk clerk I was her sister, too. I hoped to stir up some feelings in her.”

“And she hasn’t responded, called or anything?”

“No. Nothing.”

“That’s horrible,” she said, tucking in her lips and widening her eyes. “I know what you should do now.”

“Really, what?”

“You should leave her another message. ‘Go to hell.’ ”

“And what good would that do?”

“Self-satisfaction. You would know that she knew she didn’t get away with it.”

“Get away with it? I’m not out for revenge. This isn’t some sort of childish game. She’s my sister, my mother’s daughter.” I shook my head. “I’m really sorry I ever told you about her.”

“That’s not fair,” Chastity whined. “You should always tell me your secrets. I tell you everything.”

I stared at her. At this moment, I felt as if I had left her so far behind on the maturity road that she was less than a dot. Why was I wasting any more time with her?

I looked at the notes for our upcoming test and then flung them across the room.

Chastity jumped in her seat. “Why did you do that?”

“I don’t care about this test. Just go home to study yourself. You don’t have to fail because of me. Go on!” I shouted at her.

She was too stunned to move.

“Get out!” I screamed, and she rose.

“All right, all right. You are so weird now. I know I should be sympathetic, but I can take just so much, too, you know,” she said, tears making her eyes glisten. “I have feelings just like you.”

I turned my back on her.

She paused in my bedroom doorway. “You know, everyone asks me why I remain friends with you, Emmie.”

“Right,” I said. “I know you have a whole lot of them lining up to take my place. Go for it.”

She stomped out and down the stairs. I heard her open and close the front door, and then I flopped back on my bed and stared up at the ceiling. Mama was in the doorway. She was in her robe and slippers. Lately, if she didn’t have to go out, she wouldn’t get dressed all day, and she would do little or nothing with her hair. I was worrying more and more about her, about how pale and frail she was looking.

“What was that all about?” she asked.

“I’m tired of her, Mama. She’s such a busybody.”

“You just made that discovery?”

I didn’t say anything.

She came into my room and sat on my bed. “What is it really, Emmie?”

“I can’t stand not having Papa with us,” I said.

She sighed. “I know. He was very firm and on the surface seemingly insensitive at times, but you were the apple of his eye, and there was nothing he wouldn’t do for you.”

“Are we all right financially, Mama?” I asked.

“We’re fine,” she said, patting my hand.