went to my bed and sat there for a while, thinking about the magical night Robert and I had shared. What an evening, I thought, and then my memories of Robert's kisses, Robert's embrace and touch returned, washing over me in a warm reverie. I lay back with a sigh and closed my eyes, thinking about his hands on my breasts, his lips making me tingle. As I thought about him, I moved my hands to where his had been. I started to undress. In moments, I was naked, standing in front of my mirror, gazing dreamily at myself, imagining Robert beside me. Finally, my fatigue hit me and I went to the bathroom to rinse off my makeup. It felt good to crawl under my blanket and snuggle up.
Despite it all, I thought, it was a wonderful night. It really was. I reached over and turned off the small lamp beside my bed and dropped my head to the pillow. The sound of the floor above creaking popped my eyes open and drove away my sweet thoughts. I held my breath and listened. It was Cary, for I heard him open the attic room door, drop the ladder, and descend as quietly as he could.
He had been up there the whole time, maybe peeping through that hole at me, I thought. I felt my body grow hot with embarrassment as my blood rushed toward the surface of my skin. How much had he seen? We had stopped bathing and sharing the bathroom when we were seven or eight, and I began to demand my privacy even more when I began to develop breasts. Cary's curious eyes had made me feel self-conscious. It wasn't long afterward that I stopped walking around in front of him in my underwear. Even then, the way he looked at me and my changing body made me uncomfortable.
I got up and went to my door, opening it slightly to peer out as he returned the ladder, I started to open the door wider and then hesitated. If I confronted him, I'd only bring more embarrassment to myself, I thought. It was late, I told myself; it wasn't the time for this.
I closed the door ever so softly and waited until I heard him go into his room. Then I went back to bed and lay there with my eyes open, trying desperately to drive the troubled thoughts from my mind so I could think only of Robert and our wonderful night together.
But when I turned on my side and closed my eyes, I saw only Cary's angry face after he had emerged from the darkness behind us, his truck headlights casting him in an eerie silhouette. I finally drifted to sleep, only to find that Cary was in my nightmares, along with the distorted faces of my classmates, whispering, leering, laughing, chasing me toward the roaring sea. Everything was so vivid. I woke in a sweat after the first wave washed over me in my dream. My heart was pounding. I sat up quickly and had to hold my hand over my heart and take deep breaths. Finally, I got up and went to the bathroom to splash my face with cold water.
Whenever Cary and I had a nightmare, we would share it the next morning. It was a way we both had to drive the demons out of our hearts, to comfort each other. For the first time, I couldn't tell him about my dream. This time, I had to find a way to drive the demons out myself.
3
Trouble's Brewing
.
Cary sat sullenly at the breakfast table the next
morning. We exchanged few words, but most of the time when he looked at me, I thought I could see the accusations in his eyes. I didn't believe he had any right to make me feel guilty and I refused to act ashamed. If anyone should be ashamed, he should, I thought, following me around at night, peeping through holes in the ceiling.
Mommy was eager to hear about the dance, and I was thankful that at least she could share my happiness. As I spoke, I signed to May, describing the decorations, the food, the music. Of course, I left out the unpleasantness over the ticket and mentioned nothing about Cary pulling Robert's car out of the sand.
"I thought you went to the dance, too, Cary,"
Daddy said when there was a pause.
"Hardly," Cary said disdainfully.
"Then where were you, boy? It was pretty
Iris Johansen, Roy Johansen