Secrets 01 Secrets in the Attic (21 page)

As I approached the house, I saw it was dimly lit, just as I had left it, which meant my father was not home yet. My legs were tight from my frantic pedaling, and my heart felt as if it were flopping about madly under my breast. I had to stop and just stand a moment to catch my breath. I suddenly noticed all the stars and the moon. It had been as if I had ridden with blinders on, my head down, fleeing from the disaster with Dana. I didn't know how I had made it home without going off the road. I took some more deep breaths and then walked my bike up the driveway and pulled up the garage door.

After I put on the garage lights, I stowed my bike and closed the garage door behind me. I was happy my father was not home yet, because I knew I looked a mess, and there was just no way to avoid some kind of explosion if he ever found out what had just happened to me. I entered the house, half expecting to see Karen standing there anxiously waiting to greet me. She wasn't, and it was quiet, so quiet that for a moment I wondered if she had gone off again to stay in Harry's mother's apartment or someplace else.

I glanced at my watch. I had been gone a little less than an hour. There was probably still plenty of time before my father would be home. I started up the attic stairway and slowly opened the door. Of course, it was pitch dark; but the moonlight was still bright enough to illuminate the large room and at least silhouette most of the furniture.

"Karen?" I called in a loud whisper.
"Back so soon?" I heard her respond.
At first, I didn't see her, so I opened the door a

little wider to let in more light and saw her lying on the sofa, naked.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
She sat up and brushed back her hair. "I was just thinking about you, imagining what you were doing, trying to feel what you were feeling."
"Oh?" How odd, I thought.
"Don't sound so surprised. It helped me pass the time. But why are you back already?"
She reached for her clothes and quickly started to dress.
"It was terrible," I said. "It wasn't the way you thought it would be."
She stopped dressing. "Why? What happened?"
"He tried to rape me," I said, my chin
quivering.
"What? Why? Why would he have to do that? What did you do?" she asked, sounding as if she were accusing me, as if it had to be my fault.
"It wasn't what I did," I said. "It's what he did!"
"Tell me everything. Start at the beginning, and don't leave out a syllable," she said, patting the sofa. I sat, and she finished dressing.
"Well?" she said when I hesitated.
I took a deep breath and began. "I biked to the post office and got into his car. We drove off, and he pulled into a driveway not far away, where he said his cousin was building a house for someone. There was a house being built, but I have no way of knowing if his cousin is involved."
"Oh, c'mon, Zipporah. I don't need those kinds of details. Stop babbling like an idiot. What did he say to you? What did he do?"
"I can't help it. I'm still shaking," I said. My tears felt hot as they ran down my cheeks.
She put her aim around me. "Okay, okay. Relax. You're here now, safe with me in our nest. Take a deep breath, and tell me exactly what happened."
"He started to talk about you and me and compared me to other girls at school, just as you said he would, complimenting me, saying how sincere a person I was. What a good friend. Reliable."
"Good. So?"
"But then he suggested I had been with other boys."
"Other boys?"
"Lots of other boys!"
"Pretending he knew you weren't such a goodygoody and therefore you shouldn't be one with him," she said, nodding. "Another male trick. I call it setting the sexual table for their feast."
"He said you told him I was the school's biggest well-kept secret."
"He said I did? What a liar."
"Then he saw the red bikini panties and talked about how we shared everything He said you told him they were mine "
"Another lie. He probably thought he was stroking your ego or something"
"I started to get a bad feeling. Everything was moving so fast. There was nothing romantic about it. The moon could have been behind a wall of clouds. He was the one who demanded we go into the backseat."
"He got ahead of you. I was afraid of that. What did you do?"
"I wasn't comfortable with him anymore. I told him to take me back, and he became very angry and said you and I were just weird. He didn't call me any names, but I knew he thought I was just a tease."
"That's just his way of dealing with rejection. Any girl who doesn't just roll over for a boy is a tease in their eyes," she said.
"He said you had told him I was so sexually sophisticated I could teach him things."
"Exaggeration, exaggeration, exaggeration. In his dreams, maybe. Of course, I made you sound desirable, but he filled in the blanks himself. That's what boys do, Zipporah, fantasize. But you said he tried to rape you."
"He got out of the car, furious. I was going to get out, too, and just run back to the post office, when he opened the door on my side. He was standing there naked from the waist down."
"Really? What happened then?"
"He pulled me out and shoved me into the rear. He was on me before I could resist, and then he practically ripped off the panties."
"And?"
"And then I stopped him."
"How?"
"I told him he would hate himself forever."
"That was enough to stop him'"
"I said a little more and added I was a virgin, and he stopped, got dressed, took me back, and told me to tell you that if you ever call him again, he'll go to the police."
"Like I ever would," she said. "Boys and men are all the same. Selfish, wanting to please themselves at any cost. They're all Harry Pearsons at heart."
"Did you say any of those things about me? Did you tell him I liked him, thought he was the bestlooking boy in school?"
"Of course, I told him you thought he was good- looking. Which he is, but I never made you out to be some tramp. Why do men try to turn every girl they meet into a tramp? When they get married, they hate the thought of anyone thinking that about their wives. I know Harry hated it, but look what he did with me. I'm sorry things didn't work out the way 1 wanted them to work out for you. It was supposed to be a great experience, so we would have more to share. There'll be other opportunities. Don't worry about it."
"I'm not worried about that. It was a horrible experience. He was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I can't imagine how you were ever with him."
"I had the experience to handle him. He didn't dare try anything like that with me. I had him eating out of my hand, anyway. Let's forget about Dana. Let's not even mention his name."
"I can't just forget about it that easily, Karen. I'm still shaking."
"Yes, I can see that. I'm sorry," she said, and put her arm around me to hold me again. She kissed me on the forehead the way my mother often did. "Maybe I'll think of a way to get even with him."
"No. I don't want to have anything more to do with him," I said quickly. "Besides, we have other, more important things to think about now. We shouldn't have spent all this time and energy on Dana Martin, anyway. It was crazy to try to live normally and be like any other girl our age. We're not," I said, feeling the hysteria creeping into my voice. My episode with Dana made me feel as if my bones had been rattled and were still vibrating through my spine and my ribs. Even my legs were still trembling.
"Yes, yes, you're right. You're always so sensible. We really are like two parts of the same person, me the wild one and you the sensible one. Passion and thought, that's what we are, but without those two, you're not a complete person. What we do is complete each other. That's why we're so close."
"Maybe," I said, "but I think we should lean more toward thought for now."
"Exactly."
We heard the sound of the garage door going up. "My father's back," I said, rising.
"Get yourself together, Zipporah. Calm yourself. Wash your face with cold water before greeting him," she advised. "You don't want him to know about Dana. It will just make all that worse and blow everything out of proportion."
"Everything is out of proportion," I said, with a little more anger and disgust than I had intended. I lowered my head as I walked to the doorway.
"You want me to leave again? Is that what you're saying? You blame what happened between you and Dana on me, and now you want me to leave? You think I'm getting you deeper and deeper into trouble?'
"No, no, of course not. I'm sorry. I'm still shaken up, but I'll be all right," I said, and left quickly, hurrying down the short stairway to the bathroom, where I did what she said. I washed my face in cold water, fixed my clothes, and brushed my hair. I heard my father calling to me from below.
"I'm in the bathroom," I shouted, after opening the door to stick my head out.
"Okay," he said from the bottom of the stairs. "I'm just checking. Come down when you can," he said. "I need to talk to you."
I sat on the covered toilet and kept taking deep breaths until I felt I was calm enough to face him.
"Hey," he said, looking up from where he was sitting in his chair in the living room when I entered. "Is everything all right?"
"Yes."
"No one called? I was expecting Jesse to call," he added quickly.
"No," I said.
He grimaced and then looked very suspicious. "That's not like him."
Oh, no, I
thought the moment he rose from his chair. He walked past me to the kitchen and went to the phone. I heard him dialing. "Hey, big shot. I thought you were calling to let us know your exact schedule. What do you mean? Zipporah was home."
I stood there listening to the silence, imagining what my brother was telling him. He must have called while I was in the village meeting Dana. What would
I say? Making up lies to cover myself did not come easily to me, and I always had this fear that because my father was a trial attorney who was skilled in cross-examining people, he would see through any lie I told.
"Okay. So, let me get that down for your mother. Sounds good."
What? Well, it's not easy for her." He listened again. "Couldn't hurt," he added. "Okay. Have a good time. Bye."
I waited, my heart thumping,
"That's funny," my father said, returning to the living room. "Jesse said he called about a half hour, forty minutes ago, and you didn't answer."
"I was up in the attic," I said. "I guess I didn't hear it ring."
"The attic? Why?"
I sat and stared at the floor. "Karen and I made that our special place. I just like to go up there and think, be by myself."
"Oh, I see. Helps you to feel closer to her, huh?"
I looked up sharply. If he only knew how true that was.
"Yes," I said.
"Look. You have to stop beating yourself to death about this, Zipporah. There's no way anyone could or would think you had any blame. She was your best friend. She didn't want you to tell anyone what was going on in her house, and you respected her wishes. Friends are precious. The famous English novelist E. M. Forster wrote, 'If I had to choose between betraying my country and betraying my friend, I hope I should have the guts to betray my country.' "
"Really?"
"Yes," my father said, smiling "Friendship is valuable. Your country is important, but loyalty to someone you love or who loves you is harder to betray."
He kissed my cheek.
"Oh," he said, returning to his chair. "There was a message back at the office for me from that detective, Simon. It just said to call tomorrow. I suspect it has something to do with what we talked about yesterday. I gave the information to the right people at the district attorney's office to get things under way. Don't worry. I'll set the ground rules for any more discussions between them and you," he said finally. "They'll treat you with respect, or else."
"Okay, Daddy. Thanks I'm going up to finish my homework," I said.
"By the way, your brother just told me he's cutting his visit with his roommate's family short. He'll be back next Sunday."
"Why?"
"He's worried about you," he said. "That's nice," he added. "Of course, he'll see the new car. Let him be surprised. Since he's being so nice and worrying about you, we'll let him take a ride in it, huh?"
I smiled, but my thoughts weren't about gratitude. They were about Karen and what I had to tell her to do. She had to leave before Jesse returned. It wouldn't be easy hiding her from him.
I started up the stairs and stopped.
She was standing there, just in the shadows. "I heard everything," she whispered.
I looked back quickly to be sure my father was nowhere in sight and couldn't hear. Then I hurried up. She went directly into my room, and I followed. I couldn't believe that she had decided to take such a risk at this time.
"Why did you come down from the attic while my father's here?" I asked in whisper.
"I thought after all that's just happened, I had better hear everything I can firsthand," she said. "Don't worry. I'll get back up there without him hearing me. He usually watches television for a while this time in the evening." She smiled. "I know his routine."
"How?"
"There were times I came down and spied on your parents without you or them knowing."
"You did what?"
"Don't worry. I'm a trained church mouse."
She sat on my bed. Hearing her tell me this added to my sense of guilt and made me feel like more of a traitor to my own family. I had made it possible for her to snoop on my parents. What else had she observed?
"What do you mean, you spied on them? When, exactly?"
"Oh, there were times when you were gone but your mother was home before going off to her shift, and there were times when your father appeared unexpectedly," she added.
"Unexpectedly?"
She smiled. "What do they call that, afternoon delight? It's nice to see people married that long still have great passion for each other."
I felt the blood rush into my face. "What are you telling me, Karen?"
"Don't be thick. There's nothing wrong or dirty about it. They're married."
"You watched them?"
"Well, not exactly watched. I listened," she said. "I was bored sick! It helped me pass the time," she said, raising her voice.
I looked back at the door.
"Quiet," I snapped in a loud whisper.
"He's already got the television on." She looked at her watch. "I can even tell you what he's probably watching. Don't look so shocked, Zipporah. I always paid a lot of attention to what your parents did and said when I was here. They've always been . . . fascinating to me. All I've known, especially these past few years, is a mother who was so into herself she could examine her own kidneys. Besides, we're sisters," she added. "Do you think I would tell anyone anything I heard or saw in this house? It's become our house. Whether your parents know it or not, they've adopted me."
She smiled.
"Right?"
I shook my head. What was she saying? She was scaring me more and more.
"Adopted you?"
"You know what I mean. Not literally, legally adopted me, although you know I always wish they could. What I mean is, right now, thanks to you, they're providing me food and shelter. Don't blame me for imagining that they provide love as well. Or do you think they hate me now?"
"No, they don't hate you. Of course not. My father and mother are very concerned about you. That's all I hear from them."
"So?" She raised her arms. "That's why I say they've adopted me." Her expression hardened. "No one else but you and your parents really cares about me, least of all my own mother. Look at what she let happen."
I nodded. She was right. How could I be angry at her for anything? I might not have acted any differently if I were in her place, not that I ever could be.
"Okay. If you were listening, you heard what my father said about the detective. I'm worried about being questioned again by the police. I guess you were right. I should have kept my trap shut. Now I have to be in the spotlight again."
"Don't worry. We'll work it out," she said. She rose. "Let's think about it. What can you tell them? What do you actually know?"
"Just what you told me," I said.
"Exactly. What did I tell you? Be specific. Go on. Imagine you're in the police station. What did Karen Stoker tell you about her stepfather?"