Sociopath? (3 page)

Okay, where to start? First, make a list of
all the stuff he knew he’d need. Number one would probably be a
recipe since he didn’t have a clue how to make freakin’ cupcakes.
Surely, Reba had cookbooks around here somewhere. She couldn’t
simply remember every dish she prepared, could she?

He went over to the small built-in desk with
the phone above it where he knew there was a pad of paper and a
pen. He started his list.

*

Recipe

Cupcake pans

Little paper cup thingies

Spoon

Big bowl

Mixer

Flour, sugar, eggs (what else?)

*

That was all he was sure of. But how to find
it all? He had limited experience with this room, mostly only
checking the walk-in cooler for something to drink or to make a
sandwich. He looked around it now. There appeared to be acres of
cherry cupboards and granite countertops and slatey looking ceramic
tile floors and stainless steel appliances. He guessed the best way
was just to start at one end and work his way through every
cupboard, drawer and countertop until he located everything he
needed. He knew most of the food stuff was kept either in the large
pantry or the cooler. He’d save those for last. He needed that damn
recipe. It could be any recipe as long as it was for cupcakes, he
didn’t care - white, yellow, chocolate or cherry - he didn’t think
it took much to please first graders.

He began over by the door to the laundry room
and investigated every nook and cranny of the kitchen, methodically
assembling the items on his list as he found them. After half an
hour, he had all of it - the spoon from a drawer by the sink, the
bowl from an upper cupboard next to the stove and the cake pans
from the cupboard below, the mixer on a bottom shelf in the dish
pantry (three complete sets of fine china along with other small
appliances). And, last, the recipe. He’d been looking for cookbooks
but it turned out Reba kept her recipes in a file box on the desk,
which he finally noticed, after looking everywhere else. That
enabled him to go to the food pantry and the cooler for all the
required ingredients.

*

It was typical of Rafe to simply do whatever
needed to be done himself rather than taking his problem to anyone
else. For one thing, no one in his life had ever offered much
assistance so he’d been forced to become self-sufficient early on.
And that played into his basic nature anyway. His natural instinct
was to involve other people as little as possible in his affairs,
so by the time he was nine, he was more than confident that he
could figure out how to make cupcakes.

He stirred and mixed and filled his cupcake
liners 2/3 full, just like the card for “Chocolate Cupcakes with
Vanilla Buttercream Icing” said. Then he put them in the oven
(pre-heated to 350 degrees) for 22 minutes. That was the worst part
because it was almost 3 o’clock by then and he had to keep telling
himself to stay awake. He wouldn’t want to have gone through all
this and then burn up the results of his labor.

He mixed up the icing while the cupcakes were
cooling. After they were frosted, just for the fun of it, because
he had found them while he was rummaging around looking for
everything else, he decorated the tops with multi-colored
sprinkles.

*

He knew Magdelene kept all her gift-wrapping
materials in a large closet down the hall from the master bedroom.
The shelves were filled with rolls of wrapping paper and spools of
ribbon and different shades of tissue paper and decorative sacks
and flattened boxes of all sizes. He poked around until he found
one that looked to be the perfect size for two dozen cupcakes.

Then he washed and dried and put away
everything he’d dirtied. No one would ever have known he’d even
been there if it wasn’t for the white box on the mixing island with
Laney’s name written across the top.

It was after 4:00 when he crawled back into
bed.

*

Lane was patting him on the shoulder. “Rafe,
aren’t you going to get up? Your alarm keeps going off. You must
keep hitting the Snooze button.”

“Yeah, okay, I’m getting up right now.”
Blearily, he opened his eyes.

“Did you get my cupcakes done?”

“They’re in the kitchen but the next time you
need something, Sweetie, tell me about it a little sooner,
okay?”

* *

They were still in the nursery. They should
have been moved out long ago to their own rooms but as usual, no
one remembered to do it so they just kept on the way it was. They
were used to being together now and neither was particularly
interested in being in a room alone.

* *

When he was nine and she was seven, he told
her to come into bed with him. He said he wanted to try something
and he thought she’d like it.

“Take your panties off first.”

She was puzzled. “Take my pants off,
Rafe?”

“Yes, Honey.”

She complied as she always did when he told
her what to do.

“Lay here beside me on your back,” he
whispered, “and spread your legs a little farther apart.”

When he had her in the position he wanted her
in, he pulled her nightgown up to her waist and then put his hand
on the spot between her legs. She instantly felt a jolt of pleasure
shoot through her groin and clear up into her stomach.

“Oh,“ she breathed, “what are you doing?”

He began gently rubbing her. The darts of
exhilaration increased in number and intensity until finally, she
was overcome by a flood of pure joy.

“Oh, Rafe, oh, Rafe.”

He put his hand lightly over her mouth.
“Shhh, Sweetie, you can’t make any noise. Does it feel good,
Laney?”

“Yes, yes,” she said into his ear, “do it
again, Rafe!”

He grinned. “No, Laney, once a night is all
you get but now you have to do something for me.”

“What?”

“Give me your hand.”

When she did, he put it on his hard penis. Of
course, he’d seen her naked many times but she’d never seen him
that way. She was shocked. “What is it, Rafe?”

“Girls and boys are different, Lane. This is
what boys have instead of what you have. It’s called a penis. Pull
the covers back and look at it.”

It was even more surprising when she saw it
sticking straight up below his belly.

“I want you to put it in your mouth, Laney.
That’s what will make me feel good the way I made you feel.”

Because she had such pure trust in him, she
didn’t even hesitate. She wanted to make him happy.

“Now move your mouth up and down on it - suck
it, but easy.”

Because he hadn’t reached puberty yet, of
course, he didn’t have a real ejaculation but that didn’t mean
having her mouth moving on him didn’t take him to a state of
bliss.

“Can we do it again tomorrow night,
Rafe?”

“Yes, Laney, and other things besides.”

He was young but he knew a lot about sex,
from reading, from watching movies (he’d figured out how to
over-ride the v-chip on the nursery t.v. quite some time ago) and
from listening in on his older brothers’ conversations. He thought
he’d been patient, waiting until she was seven.

“Laney?”

“What?”

“You can’t ever tell anyone. They wouldn’t
approve and they’d make us stop. So it has to be our secret if you
want to keep doing it. Do you understand that, Lane?”

“I understand. I’ll never, ever tell anyone,
I promise. Can I stay here with you tonight instead of getting in
my own bed, Rafe?”

“No, slip on over there now, Lane, and don’t
forget to put your panties back on.”

*

She discovered she could get a least a little
bit of that jolt of pleasure just by thinking about Rafe putting
his hand on her privates. It wasn’t the whole big thing, of course,
just a dart that went zipping from where she peed up into her
belly. And when she thought about it, she could feel herself
getting wet down there.

“Elena, what are you daydreaming about? I’d
like to have your attention here if you don’t mind.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Dee.”

* *

“Well, I have my last Vincennes in class this
year. What a mixed bag they’ve been. Morgan and Wyatt were both
good students and charming boys. Mariel was a prissy britches
little snob. Denis and Gabriel were smart and nice enough, both
artistic types. Jocelyn was a sweetheart and Annecy was a little
ray of sunshine. Of course, you know how I felt about Rafe. This
last one, Elena, is a bit of a dreamer but she tries to
please.”

“Yes, I have Rafe this year and I see some of
what you felt about him although I don’t think it’s as bad as you
made it seem. Still, he does remind me a little of a panther, one
you’re not quite sure is all the way tame.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s not domesticated at
all, Stuart. I think he just puts on a front.”

“I’ll tell you something about Rafe Vincennes
though, Dee. I think by the time he grows up a little more, you’re
going to be way in the minority of women who don’t consider him
compelling.”

“And I think those who do are going to
discover he’s a dangerous person to give your heart to.”

“Well, he’ll be long gone from here and I
expect we’ll have forgotten all about him by then, Dee.”

* *

When he turned 10, he asked his father if he
could start riding one of the Arabs.

“Don’t you think you’re a little young for an
Arab, Rafe?”

“Dad, have you ever seen me ride?”

“Well, I’m not sure I ever have, Rafe.”

“No, Dad, I’m not sure you ever have either
but I’m the best of all of us.”

“You are?”

“Yes, I am. One of two things, Dad - either
come and watch me and let me prove it or take my word for it.”

“I guess if you say you can do it, I believe
you. Which one are you thinking of, Rafe?”

“Destiny.”

“Destiny’s quite a handful, Son. I hope you
aren’t biting off more than you can chew.”

“I’m not, Dad, trust me.”

It pissed his sister, Annecy, off big-time.
She was 16 now and considered the horseperson in the Vincennes
family. She had a roomful of trophies and blue ribbons to prove
it.

The first time they were at the stable
together and he’d brought out the spirited dapple-gray stallion to
saddle, she was shocked.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m going for a ride,” he answered
mildly.

“Not on that horse, you’re not!”

“I already asked Dad and he gave me
permission.”

“I don’t believe it!”

He shrugged. “Go ask him yourself then.”

“I’ve begged Dad a million times to let me
ride him and he’s always said he doesn’t allow anyone to ride
Destiny but him. Why would he agree to let a flippin’ 10-year-old
do it?”

The gleaming smile was there and then it was
gone. “Maybe he thinks I’m better.”

He jumped (small as he was, it was a bit of a
leap to get his foot in the stirrup) up into the saddle, touched
the horse with his heel and trotted down the lane with Raven
following along beside.

She was wearing her official rider outfit as
she always did when she was going to the stables - tan pants, white
shirt and high riding boots. Her long golden hair was held back
with a clasp at the nape of her neck. She felt it put people on
notice that she was a professional. Right now, there were tears of
frustration in her blue eyes as she watched Rafe ride off on the
dancing silver stallion in his holey jeans and tee shirt and old
beat-up cowboy boots.

She could go for days at a time, forgetting
about Rafe’s very existence. After all, she was in high school,
where she got straight A’s as every Vincennes did. She was on the
Cheer Squad and had been named Queen of the Harvest Ball. She had
her candy apple red PT Cruiser, her 16th birthday present, and a
hunk of a boyfriend named Bill, who was two years older than her
and the Quarterback on the football team. In addition to her
various awards in horse showing, she’d taken her Golden Retriever,
Jonquil, to the state competition in obedience and won first place.
What was not to love about her life and why would she give much
thought to the somewhat mysterious little brother who seemed mostly
to drift silently around the periphery of the family? And yet, it
seemed like every time she did have cause to think of him, she
ended up angry.

It was because he never seemed to have to
even frickin’ try to get whatever he wanted. No one would think of
Rafe as being demanding. He never yelled or begged or threatened.
She tried to think back to remember if she’d ever heard him raise
his voice and realized she never had. She doubted if he was even
capable of throwing a tantrum and yet if he set his mind to
something, it seemed like the obstacles just disappeared magically
from his path. Like, how in the hell had he convinced Dad to let
him take Destiny when, as she’d told him, she’d begged and pleaded
to do the same and been told no every time? It just wasn’t fair.
Not that she’d raise a stink about it. Renny was a mostly easygoing
father who let his kids have anything they wanted within reason but
they all knew, it simply wasn’t acceptable to question his
decisions or his authority. Do that, and you’d find you’d lost more
than you could ever hope to gain.

Another thing about Rafe that got under her
skin was how he didn’t place any importance in the things that
meant so much to her. She had watched him with Raven. That dog
would do anything Rafe wanted although not once had she ever seen
them together on the course she’d set up when she was training
Jonquil. He didn’t use any of the traditional commands, just talked
to the dog like they were having a conversation. “Come on, Raven,
stay beside me now,” and Raven’s nose would practically be glued to
his knee. She thought if Rafe told Raven to “wait”, he’d stay where
he was until he starved to death.

She’d told Rafe once that he could do with
Raven as she’d done with Jonquil, enter him in competition and win
ribbons and trophies.