The Girl On The Half Shell (44 page)

I freeze at the terrace doors.
Oh god!
Jack is here and they are arguing.

“You have the nerve to pull my daughter into your fucked up life and you think it’s going to be OK?”

Alan’s face is calm, emotionless, but I can see how angry and hurt he is.

“You’ve got it wrong, Jack. I’m willing to explain if you’re willing to listen.”

Jack’s expression is intense and harshly dismissive. “What can you possibly say that will change anything you’ve done? In three weeks you have made a complete nightmare of my daughter’s life. Will it undo dragging her through the rag sheets? Whatever you think you can say or do isn’t going to change any of the shit you’ve done.”

“I appreciate—”

Jack cuts him off. “I was you. You can’t bullshit someone who has been where you are.”

I step out onto the patio. “Stop it, stop it, stop it!” I scream at the top of my voice.

Jack points a finger at me. He’s never done that before. I’ve never seen my dad so angry. “Go pack your things. Be ready to go when I am finished here.”

I twist away from the hand that tries to take hold of me. “No!”

“No?!”

“Whether I go home is my decision and it has nothing to do with you.”

Jack stares. “I’m done discussing this. Pack your things. We’re going back to the apartment. We are flying home tomorrow.”

“You are a little late, Jack. I’m eighteen. I don’t have to go anywhere with you,” the very angry girl inside me screams.

“Yes you do, Chrissie. We are leaving.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t live as if everything is normal because it’s not.”

In frustration, I push the hair back from my face, and then I hear a sudden silence that sounds loud in my ears. Before I can react, Jack grabs my arm and drags me near a light.

The color drains from Jack’s face. “What is this? Chrissie, what happened to you?”

I forgot my Tiffany bracelet in Linda Rowan’s car. I shake my arm out of my father’s grasp. “It’s nothing. It’s old. I’ve had it since I was thirteen.”

He looks confused, dismayed, disoriented. “I don’t understand.” He sinks weakly on the edge of a table and I can see that he’s not sure what he’s seeing or perhaps he’s just trying to lie to himself. “I don’t understand. How did that happen? How could you injure yourself badly enough to do that without me knowing?”

Alan’s eyes are a strange mix of fury and sympathy. “You don’t know your daughter at all. Your daughter did that to herself with candle wax. She burns herself,” Alan yells, unleashing truth into the room in a voice loud enough to shake the New York Skyline.

“I don’t understand. Why would you do that, Chrissie? Why?” Jack is shaking and horrified, and he moves to take me into his arms, but I back away to the safety of Alan.

“Because you hate me,” I scream.

Everything about Jack freezes all at once. “I don’t hate you. How can you say that?”

“You never talk to me. You avoid me. You left me in school for eight fucking years just so you didn’t have to see me. Why, Daddy? Why do you hate me?”

“I don’t avoid you. And we talk all the time.”

“When was the last time you ever noticed anything about me? I’m a pretty messed up girl. Did you even notice, Jack? Three weeks with Alan and he knows every messed up part of my fucked up life. Eighteen years with you and you know nothing. You don’t want to know me and you sure as hell don’t want me close to you.”

“You’ve lost me, Chrissie.”

“I lost you ten years ago.”

Jack steps toward me, close, but doesn’t touch me. He is despondent. “I don’t know why you are so angry, but whatever you think I’ve done wrong it’s not because I don’t love you.”

“Then why do you avoid me?”

“I don’t.”

“You left me in that school for eight fucking years. You made me someone else’s problem just so you didn’t have to be near me.”

Jack’s eyes are frantic and desperate. “No. Never. I didn’t know that’s how you felt, but you’ve got it wrong, Chrissie. All wrong. I’m here, baby girl. And I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care.”

Uncertainty fills my head. “I don’t think I have it wrong. I think you blame me and you hate me for it.”

Jack rakes a desperate hand through his hair. “I don’t hate you. I don’t understand what you are talking about. Blame you for what? What could I possibly blame you for?”

I stare at him and the little girl in me starts to shake and hurt. “You stopped being my dad when Sammy died. We dropped him in the ground and never spoke of it, and we really haven’t spoken since.”

I feel it. All the words bubbling up. I can’t stop this.

“I am so tired of hating you,” I sob.

Jack is crying. I’ve made him cry. It should please me, please me that he might hurt even in a small way, as I do, but it makes my internal mess even messier.

I sink against the terrace wall. Alan crosses the patio and eases down behind me, a barrier between me and the cold concrete. His warm arms are rocking me, his lips are in my hair, and I am back in that night. I can’t stop it.

“It’s going to be OK, Chrissie. Just talk, baby. Jack is listening. Your father is listening.”

The words bubble up. I can’t stop them and I am back in that night again.

* * *

It is late. Maria lets me stay up late. I think she likes to keep me near her. She is always watching and she is always close. She doesn’t play with me very well, but I like that she stays close.

We are in the kitchen and I am watching her wash the foil she used to cover my meal last night. Why does she do that? Why does she wash the foil and add it to the giant ball beneath the sink? I hate that she saves my food and gives it to me a second day. The bowls of cereal are the worst. The charms get soggy in the milk. I don’t want to eat it, but Maria expects me to, so I force down the soggy charms and she smiles.

I like Maria. I don’t understand what she says, but I like her. She is thin, dark haired, and gentle like Mommy. I don’t know what it is about her face, but she has that look that Mommy had before Mommy left. Sammy calls it haunted. No, I think Maria is just sad, so I do as she tells me, pointing and talking to me in fast words I don’t understand, so she will smile and look less sad.

The foil ball is very large. When is it finished? What do we do with it when it’s finished? I smile. Maria smiles. The foil is put away for another day.

I hear the front door open. The voices. I know the sound. Sammy. I spring from the counter before Maria can stop me and race down the hall.

I know Maria is right behind me, but I am faster. I am into Sammy’s arms before she can stop me. I laugh as I’m tossed into the air and then lowered for a kiss from my brother.

“What are you doing still awake, baby girl.” He says it in a growl. He is only joking. I smile. Sammy looks good. I think he is well again. That’s what Jack calls it because he thinks I don’t understand about the drugs. He thinks I don’t know that Sammy has problems. But we are very close. My brother and me, even though he is ten years older. He talks to me and he lets me talk to him.

Sammy looks good tonight. I laugh. “Toss me again.”

Into the air. He catches me. His friends are in the living room, and quickly the tidy quiet has changed. The music is blaring. Vince has opened the bar. There is laughter, music, and people everywhere in the room.

I stare up at Sammy. “Where did you come from?”

Sammy laughs. “New York this time, squirt.” He makes a pouty face. “I’m here only one night, and then we’re off to San Francisco.”

I hate that he is leaving so soon. Everyone comes and goes except Maria and me. Even Mommy left, but I know that that was different.

The room is quickly filled with smoke. It burns my eyes and throat, and the music is too loud. It hurts my ears. I don’t like it. Sammy’s parties are not good. But Sammy’s parties bring him here so I don’t tell Jack.

Maria rushes across the room and tries to grab me away. I avoid her hands and hide behind my brother.

“Maria. Dame un abrazo y un beso. ¡Eres bella.”

I don’t know what Sammy said. Maria looks unhappy. Rapidly, she fires back. “Llamo Señor Jack. No se permite estar aquí cuando no está página. Las partes. No son buenos para la niña.”

Sammy pouts and he is tickling her and trying to hug her and trying to kiss her, and Maria is angry, but she is laughing and shaking her head.

“No esto no es bueno. Llamo Señor Jack,” Maria says in a frantic tone.

Sammy sinks on the arm of a couch. “No, Maria. No llame el Señor Jack”

I watch, hidden behind my brother, smiling. Whatever they are arguing about, Sammy is getting his way. But of course he would. Everyone loves Sammy.

Maria holds out her hand for me. “Niña. A la cama.”

I take Maria’s hand. I look at my brother. “Come later to say goodnight. Don’t leave without saying goodnight.”

He crosses his heart. He smiles at me. “Never, baby girl.”

We are almost to the door. I smile at Vince. He ignores me. To Maria he says, “Llama al Señor Jack. Y llamo la inmigración.”

I feel Maria shaking. The color is gone from her face and her fingers are so tight around mine that they hurt. She nods.

“Fuck, Vince! Why did you say that to her? She wasn’t going to call Jack.”

Maria stares at Sammy. She stares at Vince, and then she quickly pulls me down the hall to my bedroom. She has that look again, afraid and crying without tears. I see it in her eyes, but there are no tears on her cheeks as she tucks me into my bed.

I do not know what the strange look on her face means.

“Los amigos de su hermano. Son diablos.”

I don’t know what she said. I give her a hug. I watch as she closes the door. I listen to the party.

The minutes pass very slowly and I hate them. Sammy doesn’t come and he promised. Even though the house has quieted, his friends have left, Sammy hasn’t come as he promised.

I climb from bed and peek out my door. The hallway is dark. Maria has gone to bed. Good. I don’t like upsetting Maria. She would be upset that I am not in bed asleep.

I tiptoe down the hall. I am nearly to the living room, but I hear voices from the other part of the house. They are in Daddy’s bedroom. I follow the angry voices and I stop in the hallway, peeking in.

Sammy is arguing with Vince. Why are they fighting? I thought they were best friends like me and Rene. I never see Sammy without Vince.

Vince storms out of the room. He brushes past me without a word. I am pushed back into the wall. The front door slams. I look in the room. Sammy is sitting on the bed. He looks so sad. I don’t like when my brother is sad.

I tiptoe into the room. Sammy’s face snaps up.

“Baby girl, why aren’t you in bed?”

I run across the room. I hug my brother. He looks like he needs a hug. I can feel something strange in him. It feels like Sammy is crying, but I don’t see tears. He exhales slowly in a jerky way.

“Go to bed, Chrissie!”

I shake my head. I don’t like the way my brother looks. I don’t want to leave him. He picks me up.

“Don’t tell Jack,” he says and I know what he is asking. I am not going to tell about the party and the fight.

I nod. I love Sammy. I won’t tell Jack.

“Is Maria good to you?”

I nod.

“I miss Mom.”

I nod. I miss Mommy too.

“How long is Jack gone this time?”

I stare. I don’t know.

Sammy tucks me into bed. He kisses my nose. “I’m glad Maria is here with you. Now go to bed, baby girl.”

“Don’t leave without saying goodbye.”

“Goodbye.” Sammy makes a funny face.

I roll my eyes.

I lie in my bed. I can’t sleep. I don’t know why. The house is very quiet. I climb from bed and tiptoe down the hall. I peek into the room. Sammy is there. I see the drugs. Sammy thinks I don’t see and Jack thinks I don’t understand, but I do see and I do understand and I don’t want to leave my brother.

The floor creaks. Sammy turns. He sees me. “Get the fuck out, Chrissie!”

Why is he angry? Sammy never talks to me that way. I shake my head. I run into the far corner of the room. He was well when he got here. Why is he sick again?

“Go,” Sammy growls. He is reaching for me.

I shake my head. I squirm so he can’t catch me. Sammy lies back on his bed. There is something wrong. He is sweating and breathing hard. He looks so strange. I am afraid. Should I run and get Maria? Should I call Jack?

I watch. The minutes are slow. Sammy looks so strange. He is getting sicker. It is different. I ease out of my hiding place and cross the room. He is breathing so funny and the look in his eyes is very strange.

His flesh is moist and wet when he touches me. His hand is weak and it trembles. Sammy looks so strange.

* * *

Silence. Dead silence all around me.

“No, Chrissie. No. You are remembering it wrong,” Jack says in tortured determination.

“Dammit, you don’t remember something like this wrong, Daddy,” I scream in long-suppressed frustration. “For a long time I thought it was just a nightmare. I mean, wouldn’t we have talked about it if everyone knew I was with my brother when he died? But it’s not a nightmare. It’s real. Maria found me in the morning next to Sammy’s bed. I was with her when she called you. Then Patty Thompson showed up, and the police and they took Sammy away. And Maria kept me in my room. And you showed up, Jack, and you never spoke to me again.”

“Chrissie, I didn’t know you were with him when he died. Maria…” Jack’s voice fades away in a lost way.

“I was there. From the beginning until the end. I didn’t find him. I was in the room. I stayed. I saw. I didn’t understand. You have to believe me. Please, Daddy. Please. Don’t hate me anymore. I didn’t understand. I would have gotten help, but I didn’t understand. He looked so strange and I watched. I watched it all. I just sat there and watched. Oh god…it’s my fault Sammy died. I watched him die and I never got him help. Is that why you hate me? Because it’s my fault Sammy is dead?”

Jack sinks in front of me. He takes me in his arms. “No, Chrissie. I don’t hate you. It wasn’t your fault. It was my fault, baby girl. Sammy had issues. I knew it. I should have been there.”