Cat (5 page)

"It sounds like you live in a prison, not a home," Jade said.
"I've felt that way, yes," I admitted.
"My room is my world. Neither of my parents would dare to invade it," she said. "We're
people,
too, despite our ages. It's stupid to think that just because we're under eighteen, we're some kind of lesser creature."
"Right," Misty said nodding.
"It bothered me along with so many other things. I was more emotional than ever. Sometimes, I would just lay in bed and cry. I had no specific reason for it. Tears would suddenly build and flow and I would shudder and sob. If my mother heard as she passed by my room, she ignored it. Intimate talk not only embarrassed her; it disgusted her. I felt so lost and confused. It made everything harder."
"What about your father?" Star asked. "After all, he told you that you were his special little girl, right?"
"My father was very busy at the time. He had moved to another brokerage house and was
establishing himself and the clients he had brought over with him.
"Everything about our lives was routine then. One day seemed no different from the next, even the weekends blended into the week. All my premature development did was make me feel lonelier than ever. I truly did think of myself as being freakish and I tried to stop thinking about it. I tried to do what my mother wanted, but I was like a rubber band being stretched and stretched until I was about to snap."
"Didn't you have any friends to talk with?" Misty asked.
"I was terrified of personal talk and the other girls knew it. Most of the time, they teased me. Every time one of them brought up a topic related to sex or boys, I felt my ears shut and my body tighten. I usually would find an excuse to leave. I guess by my own behavior I added to the image of being freakish and weird. No one really wanted me as a friend.
"Don't think I didn't feel terrible about it. Other girls went to each other's homes. There were parties, none of which I was invited to. I rarely went to the movies. I felt like I was standing on the other side of a wall, a glass wall, looking in at the rest of the world.
"One night I sat in my tub and sobbed so hard I created waves. Mother was downstairs doing needlepoint. I heard my bedroom door open and close and moments later, there was Daddy looking in at me. He smiled.
'What's all this? Why are you crying, Cathy?' he asked.
"I shook my head. I couldn't explain it to myself. How could I explain it to him or anyone else for that matter?
"He saw the redness around my bosom and under my arms and looked concerned.
"'What's this?' he asked. 'What is it, a rash?' He approached the tub and knelt down to look closer.
"'No,' I told him. 'It's from the sports bras Mother makes me wear.'
"'This isn't good,' he said with concern. 'My poor special little girl.'
"He rose and went to the bathroom cabinet and then he returned with some cold cream. First, he rubbed around my bosom, and under my arms with a towel, drying the skin. Then he told me to just sit back and relax as he dabbed the cold cream on and gently spread it over my chest.
"'Good,' he whispered. 'That's good. It feels better, doesn't it?' he asked as he moved those long, spidery fingers around, under and over my bosom.
"It did feel better. When I opened my eyes, he was looking down at me with such a bright hot look in his eyes, I was both frightened and confused for a moment. Then he spoke softly again and promised to talk to my mother about the terrible thing the sports bras were doing.
"He leaned over and kissed me softly on the forehead. In my house, kisses were as rare as exotic birds. Every one I received, I cherished in my heart, I hoarded like a jewel in my treasure chest of affection. It had a long way to go to be filled.
"Anyway, if my father did speak to my mother about the problem with the sports bras, she never acknowledged it. She didn't ask or come to look. I continued to complain and on each occasion she told me what she always told me. It wasn't the proper time for me to wear anything else. If I did, it would just emphasize my awkward development and draw looks and comments that would upset and embarrass me.
"Finally, I rebelled and refused to wear the tight exercise bra. When she saw I was going to attend school with only a blouse covering my bosom, she relented and bought me a regular bra, but I seemed to outgrow them as fast as she bought them and that displeased her.
"Once, she even considered bringing me to a doctor and you already know how desperate she would have to be before she would think about doing it.
"'Maybe there is something terribly wrong with your hormones,' she considered. That frightened me again. She made it sound like I might grow so big, I'd be in a circus. I tried to find something in the library that would explain it or tell me how to slow it down.
"In the seventh grade, we had a unit on sex education, but it was so vague and general, I didn't feel I had learned anything significant about myself. Sister Anne wouldn't permit specific questions or any question that she termed out of line. I learned more just listening to the girls talk in the locker room and bathroom, but never enough to put myself at ease.
"The only time I felt like I wasn't a freak was when Daddy came in to see me. He told me he wanted to check to be sure the rash hadn't returned and he thought it was best to dab on the cream. He always seemed to see some redness, even if I didn't.
"Once, after I finished my bath, he asked me to lay face down on the bed and he rubbed in body oil he said would make my skin softer. He put it
everywhere. When I giggled because he tickled, he told me to hold my breath instead. He didn't want my mother hearing and learning our little secret."
I stopped and took a breath. I had been talking quickly because I felt if I took too long, I would stop and not be able to start again.
Just at that moment, we heard a tray of glasses tinkling and moments later, Emma, Doctor Marlowe's sister, appeared in the office doorway, carrying her usual tray of glasses, pitcher of lemonade and some cookies. Today she wore a pretty pearl white blouse with a lace collar and an ankle-length dark blue skirt. She had some makeup on, too, and her hair was brushed and neatly pinned.
"Good morning, everyone," she said. "Sorry I wasn't here to greet you, but I had a nasty time in the dentist's office. I'm going to have to have a root canal, I'm afraid," she said with a sad face. Then, she quickly smiled. "But it's not the end of the world."
The girls all stared up at her and I knew what they were thinking Emma had a bosom nearly twice as big as mine I knew all the jokes like 'They're so big they arrive in a room ten minutes before her.' I had heard boys say these things about me. Was this what I would look like someday?
She put the tray on the table and stepped back.
"Do you need anything else, Doctor Marlowe?" she asked her sister.
"No, thank you, Emma."
"Well, everyone looks cheery this morning, despite the nasty weather. I'll see about the lunch," she added, suddenly made nervous by our silence. She glanced at Doctor Marlowe and then hurried away.
"Dig in, girls," Doctor Marlowe said, rising. "I just want to make one phone call during our break."
She smiled at me, rose and went to her desk. Star poured herself a glass of lemonade and Misty took a cookie. Then she offered me one. I shook my head.
"I'll just have some lemonade," I said.
"Why is your mother so uptight?" Star asked. I'm sure even she was afraid to ask me any more questions about my father.
"Something must have happened in her childhood," Jade ventured. "Maybe. . . she was raped when she was a little girl," she suggested with big, teacup saucer eyes. "Was she raped?"
"I don't know," I said. "If she was, she would never tell me. She never has told me anything about the baby she lost. I already explained how she feels about even making a reference to things like that."
"She needs a therapist more than you do, or any of us do," Jade said.
"She had her visit with Doctor Marlowe, just like your parents, but she doesn't believe in therapy. She almost didn't bring me here today."
"Right, don't air your dirty laundry or something," Star said.
I smiled and nodded.
"Cat, you need some friends, and some help." "Maybe we can be her friends," Misty suggested. "Us? We're here because we're screwed up, too, aren't we? That's the blind leading the blind," Star said.
"She needs normal friends."
"I'm normal," Jade said indignantly. "Just as normal as most anyone out there. Maybe even more normal." Star lifted her eyebrows.
"We heard your story; don't try to convince us you're more normal." Before Jade could respond, she added, "And you heard ours. Let's not pretend we don't have problems or excess baggage, okay?"
"We can still be her friends," Jade insisted.
"Maybe she doesn't want us to be her friends." She put her hands on her hips. "You just keep sticking your rich nose into everyone's life all the time, I bet."
"You think you know all about me just because of these sessions? You don't know all about me. You don't know enough to pass judgment on me or anyone. You're the one who's being arrogant."
"Right. You're always right," Star quipped. She turned to me. "Well, you heard us talk about our problems. Do you want anyone here to be your friend?"
"Yes," I admitted. "I would like that."
Jade bit into a cookie and looked gleefully happy. Star rolled her eyes.
"Maybe you're just a lost cause. Maybe we all are. What did you call us, Misty, Orphans With Parents?" Star asked her.
"That's right."
"Okay," Star said. "I nominate Jade here to be president of the OWP."
"I second it," Misty said laughing
"Who says I want to be president?" Jade quipped. "You want to be the standout everywhere you go. It doesn't take a genius to see that."
Jade stared at her for a moment and then nodded. "Okay, I accept. I'm the president," she said.
"Wait, we have to vote. All in favor raise your hand." We all did.
"Done," Star said. "We're the OWP's and Jade is the president."
Everyone laughed as Doctor Marlowe returned. She gazed down at us and smiled.
"Did I miss something important?" she asked. "Just an election," Star said.
Doctor Marlowe's look of confusion made us all laugh again.
I can do this, I kept thinking I drank some more lemonade. I can do it.

"When I was in the eighth grade, something terrible happened to me," I continued after everyone had had her lemonade and sat back again. I glanced at Doctor Marlowe. She hadn't given me or anyone else here any instructions about-what to tell and what not to tell. She looked like she wasn't sure herself what we might say and was just as interested in finding out.

"I suppose now when I look back, it wasn't as horrible as I had thought, but at the time . . . It took a while before I could talk about this after it had happened," I continued. "I kept it a secret from my parents, and actually, I still haven't told my mother about it. I knew she would find a way somehow to blame me, and I was afraid that if I told my father, he might tell her even accidentally, so I swallowed it down like bitter medicine and kept it inside even though it came up like rotten eggs almost every night, leaving me in a cold sweat and bringing me to tears of ice."

No one spoke. They hardly breathed. It was so quiet for a moment, we could hear the sound of leafblowers blocks away as gardeners worked behind the high walls of expensive homes. The dull, monotonous sound of their engines seemed to be the proper sound track behind a gray, heavily overcast day.

Jade kick her and she sat back, biting down on her lip. "Whenever I was lucky enough to have
someone at school try to be friends with me, my
mother usually found a way to stop it. She had
watched some guest on a talk show discussing the
problems with young people in today's society and she
agreed with the conclusion that it was all happening
because young people were a bigger influence on each
other than their parents.
"'Peer pressure is stronger than family,' she
declared as if it was a major new discovery. It was
practically the only time I heard her lead a discussion
at dinner. She was so excited about the conclusion,
she couldn't stop talking about it to my father, who
looked bored, but politely listened and as usual,
agreed.
"After that, whenever I mentioned another girl
at school, my mother put me through a crossexamination that probably was more severe than a
cross-examination during the Spanish Inquisition." I
laughed. "I remember watching those court shows on
television, sometimes and imagining my mother in the courtroom, questioning the defendants, drilling them with biting questions as she fixed her eyes on their faces, catching every tiny revealing movement in their
lips or in the way they shifted their gazes.
"You don't lie to my mother. That's one thing
you don't do," I said almost proudly.
"You've got to be able to lie to your parents
sometimes," Jade said.
Misty nodded vigorously. "Jade's right. It's
better for them and better for you. What they don't
know, won't hurt them."
"It was just the opposite with my mother," Star
said. "She wouldn't know the truth if she tripped over
it. She was more comfortable with lies."
"Did you lie about something or just not tell the
whole truth?" Misty asked me. She smiled. "That's the
way I get around things sometimes."
"I guess I did a combination of both," I said.
"But not in the beginning I was too nervous and afraid
to do that. As I said, all I had to do was mention a
girl's name and my mother would stop whatever she
was doing and turn on me.
"'Where were you with her? What did she say
exactly? What did she mean by that? Who are her
parents? Where does she live? What does she look
like?' "She would -ask her questions in shotgun
fashion, shaking her head and spitting out another
before I had a chance to answer the one before. The
more I didn't know about the girl, the worse it was.
Usually, she would end by forbidding me to talk to
her again and I'd have to remember to never mention
that girl's name."
Jade spun angrily on Doctor Marlowe. "How can you let her continue to live with such
a monster? She hits her. She won't let her make
friends. She treats her like she's something dirty. Why
don't you tell the authorities?"
Doctor Marlowe closed her eyes softly and
opened them with a gentle smile.
"Cathy has a great deal more to say and you
should hear it all before you come to any conclusions,
Jade. You wouldn't have liked it any other way, would
you?"
Jade turned back to me, still fuming, her arms
wrapped tightly around herself, her eyes bright with
anger.
"Your mother's a Nazi," she muttered. I didn't laugh or reply. I waited for a surge of
nausea to pass and then I took a breath and continued. "There was this girl, Kelly Sullivan, whose
father works for the church in some administrative
capacity. I think he manages properties or something.
Her mother is in a wheelchair. She has multiple
sclerosis. They live in a nice, ranch-style house only
about ten minutes by car from us.
"Kelly has beautiful green eyes and apricot red
hair. She's a lot smaller than me, slimmer, I should
say, but most girls who were my age in the eighth
grade were. She hated her freckles. There were
patches of them on each check and even on the
bottom of her chin, but she had a pretty face. She
thought her freckles made her look like a freak and of
course, I had my problem. Her parents were like my
mother in that they didn't want Kelly to wear any
makeup, not even lipstick. I actually thought she and I
had a lot in common and for a while, I had hopes that
she would be a real best friend. We often talked in the
cafeteria and we shared three classes. She had other
friends, but she didn't seem to me to be that popular.
She was shy in school and when she met my mother,
she was so sweet and polite, my mother looked at her
with such approval and pleasure, I was actually
jealous.
"I mean, Kelly had almost no figure yet, which my mother thought was good and normal, and Kelly was full of please's and thank you's, just the recipe for the kind of little girl my mother wanted. I had been talking about her enough for my mother to finally consent to my bringing her home with me one afternoon. I was afraid to, afraid that once Kelly met my mother and had my mother grill her with questions, she would never want to talk to me again, but I liked Kelly and wanted her for a friend and knew if I didn't have Mother's approval, I couldn't. I was
very nervous about it.
"However, as I said, to my surprise Mother
liked her even more than I had hoped she would. She
seemed pleased that Kelly's mother was an invalid and
she was especially pleased that her father was
working for the church.
"Even so, my mother was very cautious and
hesitant about my going to Kelly's house to study for
tests together. The first time, she permitted me to go
for only two hours and after exactly two hours, she
was in the driveway waiting. I knew as soon as I got
into the car, she would question me about every
moment I spent with Kelly.
"We did study some, but we also listened to
music and talked to other girls and some boys on the phone. Kelly's mother was a sweet pleasant woman and I envied Kelly for the trusting and loving relationship they had. I almost wished my mother was in a wheelchair. Maybe if she was seriously ill, she would be a more loving mother, I thought, and then I
hated myself for wishing such a terrible thing." Jade grunted and then agreed, "Maybe she
wouldn't be so mean if she had to depend on you." "Yeah," Star said. I didn't want to discuss such
a thing. I still felt guilty for even thinking it. "Kelly's father was very nice, too, and I could
see how much he loved and cherished Kelly's
mother," I continued instead.
"Anyway, I guess because I had gone to Kelly's
house a few times and nothing horrible had happened,
my mother was a little less concerned when I asked if
I could go to dinner there one Friday night." I paused and then added for Misty's benefit, "It
wasn't the whole truth. I mean, we were going to eat,
but it wasn't really a dinner. We were going to have
pizza and Kelly had invited two other girls and some
boys."
"So it was a party," Misty said.
"I guess. I had never been to a party at
someone's house, so I didn't know what to call it. Kelly didn't tell me all the details right away. In fact, I didn't even know the boys were coming until that afternoon in school. It made my heart race with fear. I was terrified that my mother would find out somehow. Maybe when she drove me there, the boys would just be arriving or maybe she would take one look at my face and that lie detector in her head would ring. I tried to avoid her as soon as I got home, but she called
me downstairs to recite a list of rules for my behavior. "I sat with my hands folded in my lap as she
stood before me in the living room. My father wasn't
home from work yet. Sometimes, he stopped at a
tavern with some of his stockbroker associates and
celebrated or mourned the day's results in the market. "'We don't say grace before we eat every night,'
my mother began, 'but we should. It's your father's
fault, not mine. Anyway, don't look stupid about it
and don't let them know we don't. It's no one's
business. Bow your head and make sure you
pronounce your amen loud and clear, understand?' she
asked me.
"'Yes, Mother,' I said eying the door and trying
not to look guilty of anything.
"'Don't stare at her mother in the wheelchair.' "'I
wouldn't do that, Mother.'
"'We don't adhere to proper dinner etiquette
either, not that I permit you to be sloppy or impolite at
the table. It's just that your father never cared for
formal dining. I have everything set up in the dining
room,' she told me. 'Now get up and follow me.' "I did and I was surprised at the lengths she had
gone to in order to give me instructions. She had a
book of dining etiquette out and open. She had taken
out every piece of silverware we owned, and our
finest china with her nicest linen dinner napkins "'Sit,' she ordered, pointing at my place. Then
she picked up the book and held it like a Bible in her
open palms She even sounded like some kind of
Sunday school teacher.
"'You should know that the silverware is placed
in the order of its use, with the implements to be used
first farthest from the plate. The salad fork is placed
next to the left of the plate, then the meat fork, which
they might not have out, being this is Friday night,
and then the fish fork which will be used first. Just to
the right of the plate is the salad knife, next is the
meat knife, which again, might not be there, and on
the outside is the fish knife Outside the knives are the
soup spoon and, if they have it, the fruit spoon.
Dessert forks and spoons should be brought in on the dessert plate, but they might have it out already. I don't know how formal they are, of course. You know what the butter plate is and how it's there for your bread. Remember not to put your elbows on the table or slurp your soup or talk with food in your mouth.
Any questions?'
"'No, Mother,' I said. I was dying inside,
knowing that all we actually were going to do was
open a few boxes of pizza and probably slap the
pieces on paper plates, and open bottles of soda. Now
I was even more terrified of her learning the truth. She
might accuse me of making a big fool out of her. "My teeth were practically chattering when it
was time for her to take me over to Kelly's house. I
was afraid she might go in with me, but my mother,
fortunately, is shy herself, and just let me get out of
the car.
"'Call me when it's time to come home and remember, don't overstay your welcome, Cathy. Oh,
wipe your mouth after every bite and always say
please and thank you when you're passed anything at
the table. Don't speak unless you're asked a question,'
she warned.
"'Okay,' I muttered with my head down and
hurried to the front door, praying no one else would arrive before my mother pulled away. No one did because they were already in the house. I didn't know Kelly's parents weren't home. Her father had taken her
mother out to dinner.
"In fact, when Kelly opened the door for me,
the music was so loud, I was afraid it might spill out
and reach my mother's car even as she drove away. "I was a little shocked. It was as if Kelly had
become a different person. She was wearing a blouse
tied at her waist instead of buttoned so some
uncovered waist showed, and a pair of jeans with no
shoes or socks. Here I was dressed in my best outfit. "'She's here!' Kelly screamed and the others
came out of her room.
"I guess I was standing there with my mouth
fallen open. Everyone laughed at me and how faunally
I was dressed. Everyone else was in jeans and Tshirts. I didn't know the boys, of course, and they
were quickly introduced. I was too nervous to pay
much attention to their full names. Michael was a tall,
dark boy with light brown hair and brown eyes, Tony
was a shorter boy, stout, with very light brown hair
and very nice blue eyes, and Frankie was a rather
heavy boy with black hair and dark eyes. Talia Morris
was there and so was Jill Brewster, girls I knew from school, but not very well. I found out that Tony was Jill's older brother and he had brought his friends.
Tony, Frankie and Michael attended public school. "My second shock came when I discovered that
the cups they held in their hands were not filled with
just Coke. Tony had brought a bottle of rum. A cup
was thrust at me immediately, and I held it like I
would hold a loaded pistol when I was told what was
in it.
"'I can't drink this,' I told them. 'My mother will
smell it on me immediately.'
"'Don't worry about that. You chew some gum
or gargle with mouthwash. We're very experienced
with all this,' Tony assured me. 'We even drink it at
school sometimes,' he added, laughing. 'Come on, join
the party.' He practically forced me to sip the drink. I
didn't taste the rum, but I know it was in there because
it wasn't too long before I felt myself grow lightheaded and a little dizzy.
"I guess I was fascinated by it all. The boys had
so many outrageous stories to tell about life at their
school. Compared to ours, it sounded exciting to be
there every day. I sat back on Kelly's bed and listened
and watched as they played music, smoked, drank
some more rum and Coke, always filling my cup as well. We devoured the pizza when it was delivered. I laughed a lot and for a while, I felt so happy and good. I especially enjoyed the girls' conversation when they made fun of the sisters and our life in the parochial school. For me this was like being in another country. I was shocked by some of the things
said, of course, but I tried not to show it.
"I didn't want to smoke, but they were all doing
it and it seemed impossible not to do something
everyone else was doing. Vaguely, I thought, my
mother was right about peer pressure. It is the
strongest thing, but I shook that idea out of my head
or to be more honest, the rum drowned it.
"Something happened in that confused brain of
mine. Suddenly, everyone looked so silly to me. I
started to laugh at the way Michael rolled his eyes
after sipping his drink and puffing his cigarette, taking
such care to look cool and sophisticated about it. He
raised his eyebrows into question marks and looked at
me, and then I laughed again and it felt like a dam had
broken. I couldn't stop giggling. That struck them
funny and they laughed too, which only made me
laugh harder until tears began to stream down my
face.
"Frankie suddenly sat beside me and slipped his
arm around my shoulders.
"'I better hold her before she breaks apart. She's