The Birth of Bane (6 page)

I had finished
dusting, wiping-down and sweeping all of the Mini-suite, and my
little brothers room as well. I was parched by then, so I went
downstairs, grabbed a root beer out of the cooler we’d brought with
us. I popped open the can as I walked about the first floor,
curious to see the progress of the others.

My mother and
Bruce had done an awesome job cleaning the front and dining rooms
and were working on the kitchen, while Valerie was cleaning the
downstairs bathroom. Her room wasn’t as large as mine, so she’d
finished scrubbing it a while ago.

I made a few
errant comments, happy at the prospect of a new life in the big
house on the hill. For the most part, so was everyone else. I made
my way back to my room and put my root beer on the only piece of
furniture I’d been able to get up there - my four-drawer dresser. I
was intent on organizing my personal items in my bathroom, so went
in search of my toiletries and other like accoutrements that would
keep me well groomed.

I was in the
bathroom for no more than fifteen minutes and came out satisfied.
Smiling to myself, I went for another swig of root beer.

I was astonished
to see the can had disappeared from atop the dresser. My thoughts
strayed toward Elijah immediately. I stalked over to the closet I
shared with him.

“
Eli, why did
you take my soda?” I accused him, then felt bad an instant
later.

Elijah had been
so busy walking up and down a small, three-stepped stool hanging
his clothes; he nearly toppled to the carpeted floor when I yelled
at him.

“
W-what?” he
stammered, his shoulders bunched up to his ears,
startled.

I switched
gears, feeling like a jerk. “Did you swipe my root
beer?”

His little face
bunched. “What root beer?” Then a new thought dawned on him. “We
have soda?” His entire face was aglow.

I smiled in
spite of myself. Eli was just so darned cute. “Yeah, in the cooler
by the front door,” I explained, knowing it hadn’t been him who’d
stolen my drink.

“
Can I get
one?”

I was glad he
hadn’t thought to bear the brunt of my frustration a few moments
prior. He had enough false accusation in his young life. I didn’t
need to add any more to it. “Of course, big guy, you’re working
your butt off up here, so I’d say you deserve it.”

“
Yippee!” he
exclaimed.

“
Do me a favor?”
I asked.

“
Sure, Jer!
What?”

“
Grab me another
root beer, will ya?”

“
Ok!” And, he
was off.

I went back into
my room, glancing about to see what I needed to do next. I saw the
bathroom towels I was supposed to use, resting on the floor, atop a
green, 50-gallon trash bag, remembering my mother had brought them
up an hour ago. I strode across the room, scooped them up and made
my way back toward my bathroom.

I saw it then.
It was sitting on the edge of the sink, beside the cup holding my
toothbrush.

It was my can of
root beer.

I stood there,
transfixed, trying to figure out how it had moved. Had I forgotten
that I’d brought it from my bedroom? Had Val or Eli been playing a
trick on me this entire time? I remained motionless, lost in
thought.

Less than a
minute later, my baby brother came into the room, a flurry of
activity, thrusting a cold can into my palm. He was about to say
something, then realized I was staring at something.

I
hadn’
t really noticed his
presence.

His gaze
followed mine.

“
Jer, why would
you ask for something to drink when you have something
already?”

I didn’t
answer.

“
You know how much d
ad hates
for us to waste anything.”

Yeah, well,
d
ad’s a dick.
The thought was automatic, the rest of
my conscious was held fast to the notion that someone had moved the
can of soda, and
that
someone had done so without making a
sound. I could only guess, at the time, who it might’ve
been.

Within a few
months, I would know for certain.

~~~~~~~<<<
ᴥ
>>>~~~~~~~

Chapter Three:
While South of the Border

That was the way
things began for to us on those first few weeks we lived on Lincoln
Drive. Our arduous move and subsequent sanitizing of the house
carried us through the end of the week as my mother had
foreseen.

School started
for us kids much too fast. Though we’d enjoyed much of the summer,
the long days followed by equally uncomfortable nights had worn on
us. By the time the last of our furniture was in place, the dishes
put away, the linens stowed, our bedrooms set-up and all else put
in storage in the attic, we had just enough time to eat, take a
shower, get our clothes ready for school and go to
sleep.

We awoke the
next day thoroughly unprepared for the rigors of a school
day.

I think at one
time or another, each of us dosed off in class only to be roughly
awakened by our miffed instructors. Eli was sent home with a note
detailing the importance of a good’s night rest prior to attending
school.

My mother had
laughed away the memo and assuaged Elijah’s fears of being a bad
student. She was still too cheerful to be bothered by something as
ridiculous as an overzealous academic administrator.

By the end of
the first week on instruction, we had carved out a degree of
routine and things begin to settle down.

My mother began
her search for a landscaper to help her tackle the jungle that was
our front yard and a full-time gardener to make sure the grounds
stayed in tip-top shape.

It wasn’t as
though she was above doing yard work, mind you. Every other day we
came from school we’d found her in some portion of the yard pulling
vines away from some hidden treasure, cutting back bushes from the
fencing or trimming the trees. She would always greet us tired, but
with a satisfied grin. Her face would be besmirched with grime or
dust or cobwebs, but she was unerringly fulfilled. There was no
denying the obvious. She loved the house and everything about
it.

It was on the
Saturday following our move that Valerie’s knee-high moccasins went
missing. They were her favorite. She wore them more than any other
pair she owned, and she owned over twenty pairs of shoes. She had
us looking all over hell and back for them, but we didn’t find
them. She was pissed off something fierce.

My little
brother tried to lighten the mood by saying the house had eaten
them.

She had only
glowered at him. She would’ve said something bitter to him, if my
mom hadn’t been there in her room with us. So, unwilling to risk
her wrath, she stayed silent. She crossed her arms under her
breasts and turned away from us.

I was fed up
with her childish behavior, so I left. I had a date with Myra later
on that day and I hadn’t done a damn thing in terms preparation. I
still needed to shower and shave and do all the mundane shit we
guys do to look presentable for you ladies.

A few days
later, on a Tuesday, Elijah had been playing in the back yard, near
the toolshed. In a fit of overwhelming curiosity, he went to
investigate the smaller storage shed on the other side of the
stepping-stone walkway. He had opened the wooden door and peered
in, looking at the shelves on either side of him. To his surprise,
there were Valerie’s boots, sitting there, as plain as day, on the
middle shelve toward his right, toes pointed directly at him. It
was as though someone had placed them that way on purpose.
Here I am! Here I am!

Excited over his
monumental find, Eli ran to our sister’s room with the soft boots
in hand, saying: “I found them! I found them!”

“
You little creep,
why did
you hide my boots!
” was the
scream that brought us from the various locations about the
house.

“
I didn’t hide
them, Valerie,” Eli said in defense.

By the time I
got there, Eli was clutching the moccasins to his chest,
half-turned from her, while Valerie was pointing an accusatory
finger in his face. He was afraid, his eyes wide, one shoulder
bunched toward his ear, shielding that side of his body from the
angry onslaught of my sister.

I was
infuriated. I had never seen Valerie act as aggressively with our
little brother as she had right then. I could tell there was
something more, feeding fuel to the fire, but still, that didn’t
give her an excuse to take it out on a six-year-old. Our asshole of
a father did enough in that department. There was no need for her
to add to it. She should’ve known better.

I could hear my
mother barreling through the house. From the way she was stomping
about, I could tell she was just as irate as me.

“
Valerie!” I
said emphatically.

She was glancing
in my direction, another stinging remark upon her lips. This one
was for me. Suddenly, her eyes bulged as if some unseen pressure
had filled her head beyond capacity. Shock exploded across her
face, making her gasp.

“
Ooow!” she
exclaimed, bringing her hand to her ear.

Elijah stared
back at her like she’d gone mad.

My mother came
whirling into Val’s bedroom, pruning fork in hand. “What the hell
is going on in here?”

Valerie ignored
us. It was like we weren’t even there. Her eyes were locked on my
baby brother once again. “How did you -?” she tried to ask, but
couldn’t finish. Her throat clenched, strangling her
words.

Eli tiled his
head to the side, beyond confused. I could see tears beginning to
gather at the corner of his eyes. He didn’t understand what was
transpiring in Valerie’s head. To him, she probably didn’t seem
like his sister anymore. She was a stranger, a raving lunatic he
laid eyes upon for the very first time.

“
Explain
yourself, Valerie,” pressed my mother, her brow knit.

My sister peered
through her bangs, bewilderment and a tinge of something that
looked like fear etched on her visage.

“
Valerie…” It
was the threatening tone my mother uttered when she on the verge of
true anger.

“
M-mom, Elijah
flicked my ear,” she said, breathless, as if she’d run a mile.
There was doubt in her expression. I don’t think she really
believed what she’d just spoken aloud.

I frowned. It
was clear there was no way my little brother could’ve touched her.
He was too far away. And, he’d been angling away from
her!

“
No, I didn’t!”
He was finally indignant. He’d had enough.

Valerie’s eyes
were wild now, darting around the room, toward each of us, out the
windows. I could see all other emotion evaporate from her face like
rainwater before an unrelenting tropical sun. There nothing but
fright left in their wake. “S-someth-th-thing hit m-my ear,” she
mumbled, stricken, her hand coming up to touch her right earlobe.
She pulled it away as if she’d been stung.

Elijah dropped
Valerie’s shoes on the floor and scurried into my mother’s
grasp.

I gazed at
Valerie, truly at a loss for her erratic behavior. This was so
unlike my sister. I really didn’t know what to think. She was never
like this. Unglued, snappy, denunciatory weren’t adjectives used to
describe my younger sibling. Yeah, she could be rigid, maybe even a
little cold at times, but she didn’t have a mean bone in her body.
And, suddenly… there was this change in her. I had
never
seen her discard the protective shield she often placed over
Elijah. Never. She was as protective as my mom. She always came to
his defense, alleviated his fears, even kept our erratic father as
far away from him as possible when he was raving drunk and
rampaging about. I had seen her run, full-tilt, with Elijah in her
arms, away from the particularly bad confrontations that occurred
within our household from time to time.

I had even seen
her take a blow in his stead.

No, she was
fiercely vigilant of his well-being. And yet…

I couldn’t
connect the dots.

It didn’t add
up.

Yet, I could see
an angry blotch of red on her ear.

I was
wrangling-up every cliché explanation I could corral, trying to
figure out what was going on in her head.

“
It’s cold,”
muttered my sister, her hand stretched out before her.

“
What’s cold?” I
asked, before my mother had the chance to say anything
else.

Valerie stared
back at me as if she were on the verge of death. “My ear, it’s
freezing cold.”

“
Jesus Christ!”
sputtered my mom. “You better get your shit together, Val! I’ve had
enough of your bullshit!”

“
B-b-but, ma
-.”

“
No ‘but’s’,
young lady. You either get a grip or I’m going to ground you for a
week.” She spun on her heel and left, Eli still holding her about
the waist.