Some Day I Will Find Out

"I wish Doug could have been here."  Grandma addressed everyone, no one in particular.  There was a little silence.  I saw dad's jaw tense a little.  He was debating with himself I could tell.  Finally he spoke to his mother.

"Well mom...personally I'm a little tired of his disappearing games.  It's time he stopped using his past as an excuse for these games.  He's able to make decisions and be held accountable for them."   I felt an immediate appreciation for dad.  Like he had taken my 'side', unknowingly, against all things Doug.  I tried not to look but gauge how the uncles reacted.  I thought I perceived slight head nods.

"Neil that's no way to talk about Doug.  He's had more to deal with than most of us put together."  Grandma was literally tight lipped while she spoke her clipped words.

Grandpa was watching dad while grandma spoke.  He and dad usually seemed to be on the same wave length.  They were very much alike in their feelings and actions.  I got a little nervous when he spoke.  "You know Alice I hate to say it but I think I agree with Neil.  You don't just abandon the people who care about you without telling them what's going on.  There has always been something about Doug that bothered me when he pulls these disappearing tricks.  Neil, I think you're right, he's not held accountable for much."  Grandpa nodded as he spoke, he mostly spoke to his salad.  I think to avoid looking at grandma's eyes.  

"He isn't responsible for what happened to him."  Grandma looked near tears.

I wanted to shout HE SHOULD BE FOR WHAT HE DOES NOW.   "Maybe not Alice but he is responsible for what he does now."   Coming from mom that was pretty strong.  I got the feeling this had been a topic of discussion before and there were lines drawn.    I knew where Grandma stood, she always made it clear how fond she was of Doug.  Which I never could understand.

Why, and how, did they start talking about him now?  And why did I have to listen to it?  Mom must have senses something because she kept talking.  "And honestly I think there are happier things to talk about now." Everyone took a keen interest in their salads.  Mom smiled across the table at me.  Everyone tried to relax, it seemed, except grandma.

Conversation returned, in bits, over the salad, to me.  And now that the birthing story was past they headed into all of the cute things I had done and how I had always been a "pleasure" to them all.  I was surprised at all they said and recounted.  I never knew all the things they told me at lunch.  They experienced a lot of firsts with me.  First grandchild, first niece.  They told me more stories and more feelings.  Feelings and stories I don't remember until they tell me, then I do have that recall.  I looked at my parent's faces, my grandparent's faces, and  I saw time.  I saw the time they spent loving me and me not even being conscious of it most of the time.  I saw softness, concern and depth that I had not noticed or paid attention to.

Everything seemed so surface to me.  Maybe that was me.  Not them.  I tried to focus on what they said, to remember the feelings of our family times as they remembered them.  It was an exercise, to say the least.  Some memories came easier than others.  Some feelings felt natural, and some I felt obligated to feel even if I wasn't sure I felt it or not.  Some things I could not feel like they seemed to be expressing them.  Maybe I just couldn't express it the way they did.  No, as I listened it wasn't the words that made it powerful.  Or memorable.  It was the look they gave each other.  The look they gave me, the touch of a hand as they patted another hand and said "do you remember?"  Or the way dad would lean back, point at Ted or Larry and say "what about...." with a laugh or wide eyes.  And as soon as the crux of the story was out the others would start nodding their heads as they recalled the same memory.

It wasn't that I didn't remember the stories I should have been old enough to remember.  I did remember some of them.  I just didn't feel....like I was part of it.

I felt honored that they felt such happiness because of me.  Only I didn't get it.  How could I have made them so happy, and not know it, and not feel like I was part of it?  They talked through our salads and into our main course.  There was a little silence as we ate.   And fun as they had to show me how to eat lobster.   

"Oh I almost forgot Nicky..."  Grandma pulled her purse from the floor and opened it.  She stuck her hand in and pulled out some envelopes and handed them to me.  "One of them is from Sandy."

"That was nice of Sandy".  Dad was referring to the fact that Sandy had just divorced from Ted and the divorce wasn't pleasant.  Ted just grinned at dad.

"Like Sandy said Neil, Sandy's problems were with Ted, not the rest of us."  Grandma was still ticked about what had been said about Doug.  Personally, I was with the others.  Grandma wouldn't let it go.  I bet Grandpa gets an ear full when they get home.

Since Grandma was handing me cards she was expecting me to take them and open them.  I had to stop eating.  Clean my hands and open them.  Larry and Carol handed me a card, Ted handed me a card and made sure to turn far enough towards me while he was handing it to me to be able to roll his eyes so his mom would not see.  I winked in appreciation of that.  

I was thrilled at the money.  Ted and Larry each gave me one hundred dollars and Sandy had given me fifty.  "I guess this celebration is on you!"  Dad laughed as he saw the money.

The rest of our meal was small talk.  Grandma was pretty quiet.  Which made everyone else somewhat uncomfortable.  I think grandpa was getting mad at her.  I would have liked to have shook her and screamed at her for defending him.  What dad said wasn't even mean, it was just true, and that's not dad's fault.  It's Doug's.  How would she react if I ever told?

I let myself picture that.  Telling grandma, in her house, where he had lived.  I pictured her not believing me and defending him to me.  I pictured myself screaming, yelling and demanding she believe me.  I pictured her crying and saying no.  It wasn't true.  And I pictured him there.  I pictured him staying, and me leaving.

I looked at grandma and was shocked at the feeling that washed over me as we sat there in that nice restaurant with the window by the garden.  How could I?  How could she?  Would she?  I looked at my plate so I wouldn't have to look at her.  I was sure she would.  

Mom and dad had insisted I get to take at least a week off after graduation.  They said once I started working and going to school I would not have the chance for time off for a very long time.  So for two weeks, no school, no work, no plans.  I looked over at Mary again.  She was starting college in the fall.  She had a part time job for the summer and planned on having some fun.  She was in an exciting time of her life.  Where was I?  I realized Mary was looking back at me.  It took her a second or two, but she smiled at me.  I could tell she was feeling a little sentimental.  And she was worried about me.  No matter how I  tried to convince her she would not believe I was excited about graduating and working.  She felt I was being too serious.   I was being serious.  But it felt good, where I am.

She thought I was being way too serious when I told her I was beginning classes in the summer quarter.  But I was looking forward to it.  Even though studying was hard for me I enjoyed the routine of homework.  Completing assignments and finishing things.  So why wait until fall when I could keep a good routine going?  It made no sense to her. 

Before I knew it graduation was over.  I had pretty much missed everything that was said.  By choice.  We, the graduates, had to go back to our homerooms and get our real diplomas.  They handed out blank ones during the ceremony so there wouldn't be any mix ups.  I retrieved my diploma, turned in my gown and took my diploma and mortar board with me to find my family.

Hugs and kisses again from parents and grandparents.  For the most part I was pretty okay with this display of affection except with grandma.  I couldn't tell if she picked up on my discomfort.  Pictures with everyone.  We went to where Mary's family stood gathered on the school lawn and took more pictures.  Pictures of me and Mary and parents.  Mary pulled me aside and we went to check out my car.

"Are you going to the party tonight?"  She was getting in the driver's side of my car.

I stood by the driver's door.  "We're going together aren't we?"

"Of course.  Tim is going too.  Can we pick him up if he needs a ride?"

"Yeah if he doesn't mind going with both of us.".   

She looked up at me and squinted because of the bright sun.   "Why would he care?  He likes you, you like him, we have a good time together."  Mom and dad were walking towards us.

"Okay.  I think we're going out to eat now.  I'll call you when I get home."   I hadn't wanted a party which didn't surprise mom and dad.  So we agreed on a restaurant and a celebration lunch

"Okay.  Mom is having food at home so I'll be there until you come get me.  Just don't be late!"  She got out of the car and ran back to her parents and family.  Mom and dad had grandma and grandpa meet us at the restaurant.  I gave dad the keys to drive us.  We went to a new place that was downtown and seemed pretty fancy to me.  I followed behind everyone else as we walked in and dad told them we had a reservation.  

It felt pretty weird.  Coming here because high school was over for me.  Everything I had known for the last twelve years of my life, would now be different.  Different routine, different people and different feelings.  I hope.  We sat at a table next to a large picture window that looked out over a beautiful garden.  The colors of the flowers were brilliant.  The greenery dark and shiny.  How picture perfect could this be?

Once settled we ordered our drinks.  Dad asked if I would like a glass of wine.

I laughed.  "I don't think so dad".

Grandma reached over and patted my hand.  "You look beautiful Nicky,  It's hard to believe you're eighteen and graduated from high school.  I still remember the day your dad and mom told us they were expecting you."  She sat back and smiled.  A day full of smiles.

"It wasn't as exciting as the day you were born though!"  Grandpa winked at me.  "We were all there you know, your mom of course, dad, us, your aunt Marie and uncle Rick, your uncles Ted, Larry and Doug.  The nurses were pretty nice to us.  Letting us all stay in the waiting room."

I know they couldn't see it but I couldn't help but cringe when he said Doug.  And what was even worse, was including him with my uncles Ted and Larry who were...uncles.  Dad's brothers who would never have hurt me.  I smiled and nodded my head as they told my coming in to the world story.

We broke the story telling long enough to order our meals.  I would have been so happy with a salad but I know that would have raised eyebrows so I ordered lobster like they all did.

Moving Forward, Just A Little

Graduation.  The end of my childhood is what mom and dad said.  The only thing is I kind of left that behind a while ago.  They were so excited.  And still-sad.  I finished getting dressed, even using a little make up, took my cap and gown out of the closet and went downstairs.  They were all dressed up and waiting with the camera.  Mom took a picture as dad met me at the bottom of the steps and hugged me.  Then dad took one of mom hugging me.

"Nicky you look beautiful."  Mom stepped back to look at me in my dress, that she and I had picked out together.  Mom took my hand and led me to the dining room where some presents sat shimmering in their silver paper.  Mom picked one up and handed it to me.  I opened the long, thin box and found a strand of pearls.  Pretty cool I must say.

"Let me."  Dad took them from my hand and clasped them around my neck.  The pearls felt cool.  I liked that.  I hugged them both.  Their excitement was kind of catching.  I let myself get caught up in the fun and the emotion.  Dad handed me the next one.

"Nicky we are so proud of you."  I smiled happily at him as they watched me open the square box and pull out a gold watch.  "Turn it over."  I smiled even more at their excitement.  They had it engraved, it was a dainty watch and the writing was tiny:  'Time for the rest of your life.'  I looked at mom.  She actually had her hands up to her mouth, for some reason I pictured her as a little mouse, timid.  I laughed and hugged her.  I didn't think she would let go of me.

"Peg you're going to mess up her hair."  He hugged me again as soon as she let go.  There were other presents but dad picked up the smallest box and led us all in to the living room.  He motioned for me to sit on the couch.  "Nicky, your mom and I wanted to do something special for you...."   He looked at mom, at the floor, finally at me again.   "You have been everything your mother and I dreamed of from the first time we ever held you."  Okay, it's okay to cry.  So I started.  Dad smiled and reached over to wipe a tear from my cheek.  "Well, I didn't mean to make you cry.   Anyway...as you are well aware...you are our only child, so you have to indulge us."  Giggles from mom.  "This isn't very original, but it is something you're going to need."  He handed me the small box.  Mom's eyes were fixed on my face.  I opened the little box and found a key.  A car key.  I know that meant there's a car.  But...I never expected it.  Even holding the key...not sure what to do with it.  Mom laughed.

"Nicky...your face.  Come on, let's go look at it."  She nearly yanked me off of the couch with dad right behind us.  We went outside.  And sure enough there was a little Volkswagon Beetle.  Black.  I couldn't believe it.  We walked up to it.  Dad opened the door for me.  I got in.  It smelled new.  Real new.  Chemically smelly.   Fabric smelly.  

I ran my hands over the steering wheel.  I looked at the dash.  The seats.  My hands touched.  My eyes looked.  "This is mine?"  I don't care how unoriginal they thought it was , it was original for me!  "I can't believe you bought me a car!"  I had never even thought of having a car.  If I ever needed one they always let me use one of theirs.  "I can't believe you bought me a car!"  I said that already didn't I?

"Well, it's not brand new.  It's over a year old.  Nothing wrong with it though.  It looks good. Runs good.  We thought it was perfect for you."  I hadn't noticed mom taking pictures.  Dad was glowing.   Mom was grinning.  I was busy taking everything in.  CD player.  Jack to plug in my MP3 player.  Air conditioning.  I thought I should hug them but I didn't want to get out.

"How about driving us to your graduation?"  

"Let's go!"  I couldn't wait to drive it.  It was mine.

"Wait!"  Mom ran in the house and came out with her purse, my cap and gown.  Dad ran in and came out carrying his suit jacket.  What a beautiful day!  I let myself enjoy it.  Funny, that I have to let myself relax and smile and laugh.  But that's what it was.  And that's what I was doing.  Life is good.  When it's good.  Grandma and Grandpa met us at the school.  Duty dictated that I kiss them hello.  Then I had to run off with my cap and gown and meet the rest of the class in our assigned classrooms to get ready.  Mary headed right for me when she saw me.  She screeched when she saw me.  I screeched right back.  Why not?  She ran to me and stopped.  I could see her debate, she threw caution to the wind and hugged me.  I hugged back.

"Isn't this great?"  Everyone was milling around and the noise was almost unbearable.  Everyone was putting on their black gowns and mortar boards.  Some of the girls were crying.

"You are never going to believe what mom and dad got me."

"What?" We were pulling on our gowns and zipping them.

"A CAR!"

"Oh that."  She flipped her hand like it was no big deal.  Looked away.  Then looked back at me laughing.  "I KNOW!  They asked me what kind of car you would like.  I saw it a week ago.  Isn't it great!?"

"You knew?  How could you know for so long and not tell me?"  

"I'm good with secrets."  She hugged me again.   Yes, she is.  Doug had kind of disappeared.  My parents didn't think much of it.  Often Doug had packed up and moved.  Getting a job somewhere else.  And then just as sudden he would move back.  I didn't care.  But I knew why he was gone.  And I didn't think he was coming back.  This time he had left the weekend mom and dad had gone to aunt Marie's.   I figured after I heard them talking about him being gone that he must have come to the house to say goodbye.  But who knows.  

Before I knew it were lined up and heading out of the classroom to our graduation.  It was hot.  Everyone was sweating, smiling and crying.  I didn't listen much to what was being said.  Instead, I sat thinking.  Looking at faces I could see, the backs of heads.  Most of the faces were so familiar.  Most I'd been at this school with for four years.  Most, I didn't know very well.  I saw Mary, who was all giddy.   Of course I knew her the best.  Since fall she had been spending a lot of time with Tim.  So I had gotten to know him pretty well.  Other faces, other names, there were some faces I had seen for years but I couldn't recall their names.  

I thought over the last school year.  School.  Lots of work.  With the newspaper.  The year book.  Studying.  Studying was always the hardest.  Not too many other things came to mind.  I went to the prom so not to disappoint mom and dad.  I went with Mary and Tim.  And yes, felt like a third wheel.  Mary and Tim really didn't seem to mind.  We did have a pretty good time.  Though for weeks leading up to it I dreaded the thought of it.  I am sure that didn't set me up to have a good time.  But I surprised myself by actually enjoying it.  I even danced a couple of times.  But was nervous doing it.  Mom and dad were pretty excited.  I think they were disappointed there wasn't a boy to take pictures of with me.  But they never said anything.  I scanned the bleachers full of parents, squirming siblings, yawning grandparents.  I saw my family.   I grinned.  They waved.

I must be a boring kid to them.  No excitement.  They had respected my decision to get a job and go to night school.  I hadn't worked hard enough to get any scholarships.  But I was excited about working on my college education.  And I was very excited about starting my new job in two weeks.  I was pretty surprised  when I started going to interviews for jobs.  It was a challenge, not always comfortable.  But I figured if I got a decent job, staying at home, I could work and afford to pay for a good part of my own education.  I was pleasantly surprised when I got the job I wanted the most.

In two weeks I start at the State National Bank.  It wasn't a glamorous job but I was happy about the quiet setting I would be working in.  Pretty much all I would be doing is loading information on their computer system.  I would be pretty isolated from most people.  It was close to home.  It would let me pay for some of school, in addition to the loans I would have to get.  They talked about training me as a teller in case I would have to fill in.  That didn't thrill me, but it didn't scare me either.  I figured I could do it.   The nice part was I'd always be able to depend on the "banker's hours" and wouldn't have to worry about odd work shifts.  

Don't Picture This

"I'll take this to my house.  Just come down when you're ready Nicky."  Why did she do that!  I tried to give her a look as she headed out the door.  Mom and dad sat down.  Mom next to me.  Dad in his recliner.

"Are you okay with staying at Mary's this long?"  Mom patted my knee.  I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable with that.  But I smiled as I stared at my knee.  It was the little things that bothered me.  Someone trying to comfort me.  Or treat me like I was a child.  Even when I was very young, it bothered me.  Annoyed me.   And I would have to act like it was 'normal'.  When to me it was anything but.

"I'll be fine mom.  You guys don't have to worry about me.  You know I'll be okay there."

"Of course you will.  I think you've spent just as many years at their house growing up as you have here."  Dad liked that.  The life long friendship thing.  I just hoped he didn't compare me and Mary to him and Doug like he use to do.  Thankfully he didn't.

"You're okay with us going without you aren't you?"

"Yes mom."  It took a lot of self control to not sigh and roll my eyes at her.  Some times I felt irrationally, or maybe rationally, angry at them when they tried to parent me.  "I don't think aunt Marie or uncle Rick need to worry about entertaining me right now.  And you know they would."

"I'm glad you understand.  I just wish we were going out for a different reason."  She was trying not to cry.  Criminy Curtis wasn't dead for heaven's sake.  Without batting an eye I chastised myself.  I can't believe I just thought that.  I tired picturing Curtis, last time I saw him he was still roly-poly, dark hair, and so cute.  Damnit.  Now I wanted to cry.

"Come on Peg.  It doesn't sound like Rick and Marie are falling apart.  They certainly don't need us doing that.  Sounds like little Curtis is even being pretty strong about this.  We're just going out to be with them.  You know we can still laugh.  Which they probably need.  And still feel good about being with them."

"I know I know...I just can't stop picturing Curtis and what happened..."

"Peg..." Dad didn't want her talking about it.  Not in front of me.  Sometimes I wondered if they realized how old I am.  I go to school.  I watch the news.  I live.  And...by the way...it happened to me.

"Well then..."  I wanted to scream at both of them.  Damnit both of you!  I KNOW I KNOW...stop acting like you have to protect me.  YOU CAN'T!!!  I am not a child.  I haven't been a child since that first time he touched me.  I stopped being young.  I don't need that now.  It's too late to protect me!   Instead of screaming out loud, it reverberated in my head.  I smiled at them.  "You know I'll be okay here.  I hope everyone is okay.  Please tell aunt Marie...."  what?   "Tell her something for me."   Mom patted my knee again.  Again my ire and irk went up.  Though her pat on my knee was telling me she understood and would say something for me.  Mom took it as I couldn't think of something to say.  Only, I could.  I could think of a hundred things to say, but why?  It wouldn't help.  That's for sure.

"I guess we better get started."  We all stood up.  I helped carry everything to the car.  I let mom hug me goodbye.  She kissed me.  Told me she loved me.  And hugged me again.  Hard.  Sometimes it was just hard to take.  She got in the car and pulled tissues out of the glove box.  I smiled at her.  At least she smiled back through the tears.

Dad stepped right up to me and grabbed me in a bear hug.  A hard one.  And he surprised me.  "Nicky I wish I knew what you were thinking.  And one of these days I hope you trust me enough to tell me."  He wasn't patronizing.  It made me feel like he respected me.  Like I wasn't that child.  He pushed me back and held on to my shoulders, looking at me.  "I can't read your mind Nicky.  But I know you well enough to know there is something."

I smiled, genuinely, at him.  "Geez dad, being a little melodramatic aren't you?"  He didn't smile back.

"I love you Nicky.  You behave yourself and mind Mary's parents."

"I will."  He knew I would.  Dad got in the car and watched as I walked down to Mary's.  They waited until I was on the front porch before they left.  I waved.  I sat down.  Mary came out and sat next to me.

"I'm glad you're here Nicky."

"Me too."  It was here that I sat and thought, for the first time, maybe I should tell them.  It was only a fleeting thought.  A very brief thought.  I put my elbows on my knees and my chin in my hands.  Right now, I have to be with Mary.  I don't want to be where Curtis is right now.   I don't want to be where ever Doug is.  I like where Mary is, I don't think I can ever fully be there myself, but I can visit.  So I will be.   But I look forward to not having to be where others want me to be, doing what others want me to be doing.   But for now, I have to be.

So I did the best I could.  There was comfort being with Mary.  We shopped.  Went to the movies.  Talked about her date with Tim.  And talked about that date some more.  He called on Sunday night and to not make her feel like she had to get off of the phone to pay attention to me I slipped out of the house and sat on the front porch steps.  It was dark, and it was kind of cold.  But it felt good.  I looked up the street to my house.  I didn't have the yearning to be there right now.  Like I had recently.  Mary's family was pretty easy to stay with.  Even with her brother Mark.  I wasn't on edge.  I wasn't worried about anyone calling or stopping by.  I wasn't afraid of who was walking the halls in the dark.  Or who was asking to do something with me.  I was content to be at ease.  Safe.

A car pulled up to my house.  I couldn't see who it was until it pulled in the driveway and I could see the side of the car.  It was Doug.  I watched as he got out and went to the front door.  Didn't he know we were gone?  I knew he had a key.  But he knocked.  Waited.  Knocked.  Couldn't he see no one was there.  I almost got up to go see what he wanted.  Habit.  Stupid habit.  I sat.  I didn't want to move and have him sense motion, or me.  I sat.  I did not move.  He went back to his car, when he opened the door I noticed the back seat was full of stuff.

Dad didn't tell him they were leaving?  I couldn't believe he was actually back.  Maybe he wasn't going to stop.  I completely froze.  No, it was over.  Because I won't let it happen.  He probably expected mom and dad to be home, it was Sunday.  But why is he there.  How ballsy.  Doesn't he ever wonder if I'll say anything?  No.  Because I haven't.  I watched as he got in his car and left.  Fire burned my face.  Ice froze my brain.  My body was coiled and tight.

For the next four days I went to school.  Hung with Mary.  Worked on the school paper and yearbook.  Played family with Mary's family.  Mary never brought it up.  Not once.  We stayed pretty close to her house after school doing homework and watching TV.  Mary tried to convince me to wear makeup to school one day.  She thought one of the boys in our government class liked me.  When she saw I wasn't interested she let it drop.  What she didn't know was that I wanted to be interested. I wanted so much to have someone like me. I wanted to know that, I wanted to do that.  But then again, I didn't.  What could there be?  What could I share?  I tried to be more aware of everyone in school, and everything I did.  I worked, I tried hard to pay attention.  I even tried to check out the guy who Mary said was checking out me.  I tried.  But then it didn't seem important.  All I wanted to know is "am I going crazy"?  I don't WANT anyone to know about this.  What would they think of me?  Would they try to picture what happened?  Like mom did with Curtis?

I don't want anyone trying to picture this, when all I wish was I couldn't picture it.

Why is it that what I want is the exact same thing as what I don't want.

It's All Leading Us To That Point of No Return

"Can I use a suitcase or do you guys need them?"

"We don't need them all, get one out of dad's closet honey."  I could feel dad watching me as I went to get it.  What did I do this time I wondered.

"Mary's mom is going to call you..."

"I'll just walk down and talk to her, so it's okay if you stay?"

"Yep."  I turned around as I left the room to watch them watching me.

I closed the door when I got in my room.  Mary sat there.  "My parents are acting goofy."

"Whatdya mean?"  Mary sat neatly at my desk chair.  Rigid looking.

"Why are you sitting there like that?"  Use to be she would be looking through my CD's and generally nosing in to what ever piqued her interest.  Most times she was in my closet to see if there was anything of hers or anything of mine that she wanted to wear.

"Like what?"

"Like....I don't know.  Like you're afraid to move."

I set about to opening the suitcase on the bed and started packing my bras, underwear, socks.  Moving back and forth from the dresser to the bed and suitcase.

"I don't know.  Seems like every time I come in here it's so clean anymore I hate to mess it up."

"Don't be stupid.  Do what you always do."

That's all it took for her to start looking in the closet and turning on music.  Aside from the clothes I wanted to wear we also packed some of what she wanted to wear.  I went to my dresser again to pack up my makeup from on top.  But I decided against it.  I left it.

"Aren't you bringing your make up?"

"No. I kind of like not having to mess with it."

"I kind of envy that.  I don't think I could go to the bathroom in my own house without it."  She laughed.  She did like her makeup.  She was certainly pretty enough without it.  But she thought she looked great with it.  Which she did.  But who always wanted to go to all that trouble?  I could hear mom going down the steps and out the front door.  Dad must have stayed in their room.  Mary and I pretty much hung out upstairs until I got hungry and we went to see what was to eat.  That's where we were when dad came in, browsing through cupboards and finally settling on making nachos in the microwave.

"So are you two looking forward to having a few days together?"  He busied himself making a bowl of cereal and sitting down with us.

"I am."  Mary always liked my dad and was very perky around him.  Sometimes I thought she had a serious crush on him.  "I'm going to see if Nicky and I can have mom's car and go to the movies tonight, then maybe shopping tomorrow.  Maybe just drive around."

Okay then.  Not really what I wanted to do but to keep Mary happy I could do this.  Tonight the movies, tomorrow shopping, that would mean tomorrow night before I could stay at home...er....Mary's home and relax.  I found myself doing this lately.  If something comes up that I have to do, I start anticipating, needing time alone.  At home.  It wasn't necessarily that I didn't want to do things and have fun.  I just looked forward to being done with it and being home.

"Nicky?"

I turned to look at dad.  Who was looking at me.  So was Mary.  "What?"  Why were they looking at me?

"I was asking you if you if you needed money?"

"Oh, I guess.  I only have about ten dollars left from my baby sitting this summer."  Dad pulled out his money clip and gave me fifty dollars.  "Feeling pretty generous aren't you dad?"

He put his hand out to take it back.  "I don't know what came over me."

"That's all right.  I don't mind."  He smiled as he pulled his hand back and continued eating his cereal.  Mary was still looking at me.  I felt like laughing.  Like nobody ever zoned out before.  Suddenly I felt a very strong urge to tell her how much she meant to me. I wanted to grab her and squeeze her.  I couldn't help but look at her and I thought I was going to cry.  All she wanted was to help me and that made me feel worse.  Mary and dad started talking about her brother Mark who was getting ready for basketball season.  Mark was pretty irrational about sports.  When he wasn't on a team he was busy trying to stay in shape.  I think dad kind of wished he had a son, or a daughter, for that matter, in sports.  He always made a big deal out of anything I did.  And sometimes it didn't seem like enough.  It was almost like I didn't give him enough to parent.  I got up and cleared our plates and glasses and dad's bowl.  They were still talking about Mark when mom came back from talking to Mary's mom.  She joined us at the table.

"All settled.  Nicky you'll stay until we get back.  Which I don't think we will plan on happening until Thursday."

Mary looked at me and I could tell  she was going to say something but was nervous about it.  While looking at the space between my parents, and stumbling a little over her words, she brought up that subject.  WHich I would have been happy to avoid.   "Uhmmm...I'm really sorry about your little nephew.  I mean, that's...uh, sad."  I stared innocently at my parents to see if they figured out what I had told Mary, about me, by what she had just said about Curtis.

Mom reached over and patted Mary's hand.  "Thank you Mary."  I got that very uncomfortable feeling that settles over everyone when there is a million things to be said, but no one has the nerve to say it.  The heart to face it.  Or the words to describe it.

Not because they can't.  But because once opened up it is so much bigger than the words.  It is so raw and searing, that everyone is more afraid of the other person's feelings or reactions, that no one wants to bring it up.  But everyone wants to ask, to know.   What are you thinking and feeling?  What sense does that make?  All kinds.  When something awful happens, everyone wants to know detail, for different reasons, but no one wants to seem insensitive and be the one to bring up the subject.  Though in reality it would probably be the best thing to do.  Bring it up.  Talk about it.  Yell about it.  Ask about it.  Bu no, I don't want to go there.  not about Curtis.  Not about me.  So am I like them?  I sure don't think I feel like them.  I don't want to talk about it because it is me.

Am I different than everyone else?  I feel like I made a conscious decision to not tell.  To not talk.  Because I didn't want to cause pain.  I didn't want to be the reason for discontent.  For shattering the perfect world that was suppose to be mine, my parents.  It wasn't that I couldn't take the pain, or face the reality of it.  I did-every day.  Every night.  Every dream.  Every lost dream.  Could I do that?  Make that kind of decision when this started?  I pushed my chair back quickly, which startled every one.

"I better get my stuff ready."  That set every one in motion.  Mom and dad went upstairs to get their things and Mary and I carried my stuff down to the front door.  I sat on the couch.  Just wanting to leave.  But knowing for their sake I should stay and say good bye.  Mary and I sat quietly.  One true mark of friendship, I thought, was the ability to sit quietly and not have to say anything.  I didn't feel any discomfort at being quiet.  And knowing Mary as I did I could feel when she was uncomfortable.  I knew she wasn't.  Not with our silence.  Mom and dad came down with their luggage.  Mary stood up and grabbed my suitcase.

Where Am I Going From Here?

"Mom and dad are going to aunt Marie's house tonight or tomorrow.  Do you mind if I stay here until they come back.  Probably Wednesday or Thursday she said."

"I think it would be great.  Didn't you want to go?"

"Yes and no.  I would have liked to have seen everyone but I think right now they are not really going to be happy like it's the holidays.  Everyone is going to be there because of what happened to Curtis.  But they asked me.  I could go, or stay at home and maybe Doug could come stay at the house with me, or stay with you.  Needless to say you are my first choice.  Besides, I wanted to hear about your date last night.  I figured it would take us about five days to make sure we covered all of the details."  I smiled, really hoping she would not pick Doug out of all of these topics, to talk about.  It was hoping for too much.

"Doug?  At your house?  I'm sorry Nicky but I don't see how you can listen to that without screaming.  How can you not tell them?"

"I don't know."  Let's just get this over with.  Her date was sounding better every minute.  I closed my eyes and put my head back in the recliner.  It was better than looking at her when I told her this.  "Mom asked me, or tried to ask me, if anyone had ever touched me.  She even apologized for not having asked before.  Of course I told her no."  I didn't want to tell Mary this.  I didn't have to tell Mary this.  Why couldn't I just shut up.

"What do you mean 'of course you told her no'?  That's what she asked you for, was so you would know you could tell her".  

I waited a beat.  Keeping my eyes closed one more second.  I sat forward and looked at her.  "See Mary, that's just it.  I don't think I can tell her.  I don't have that feeling that it would be safe to tell her.  Maybe I know that everything will change.  Nothing will ever be the same, not for them, not for me.  Without telling them I still have that life that hasn't been touched."

"No you don't".

"To them I do.  And when I'm with them I kind of do."  She dropped her head in to her hands.  I kind of knew how she felt but it's what I had to do.  Suddenly I felt very tired.  "Mary I know it doesn't make sense to you.  And again, I wish I hadn't told you for just that reason.  But for some reason, a long time ago, I decided that I shouldn't tell.  I know that goes against everything we hear about telling someone you trust.  But you know what?  All that stuff?  All that stuff you hear doesn't tell you how you feel and doesn't tell you what to do about being scared and alone with this.  I don't know why I didn't tell when I was smaller, but now I don't see the point in it.  The other day I knew it wouldn't happen again.  And even if he tried, I know I wouldn't let it happen.  Ever.  Again.  Before I didn't know I could stop it.  Now I know.  It won't happen again.  So I don't need to tell mom and dad.  I don't need them to stop it."

She spoke slowly to me.  Quietly.  "I understand that.  I think..no..I don't.  I mean I know you don't need them to stop it.  But do you think they would want this man in their house, in their lives?  Knowing what he did to you?  He's always going to be there Nicky.  Always.  Unless you tell them."

"I don't know Mary.  If you had seen him when he left.  I think he looked scared.  And he hasn't been back since."

"Nicky I'm sorry.  I don't mean to sound like a nag.  Or a know it all.  I just wish this didn't happen to you."  Crap.  she was crying.  Why was she crying?  I had no idea what to say.   "All I can think about is you being a little girl.  A little kid.  And this...this....what he did to you.  I can't help it, I knew you, I think about when we use to play ....  I feel so guilty that I didn't know.  And that I thought we both had these perfect little worlds.  Except I had a brother so you had it better because you didn't.  And all this time....this was going on."  I think I should have gone and hugged her or laugh at her attempt to make me laugh.  But I couldn't.  I couldn't move.  If I blinked I was going to cry.  Not because of me.  But because of her.  She truly felt guilty and it was my fault for making her feel that way.

We sat there being quiet.  Except for her quiet little sobs.  Until we looked at each other and smiled.  "You know Mary, we don't have to let this dominate everything in our lives.  There's other stuff going on.  Like last night.  What happened with Tim?"  She just looked at me, not saying a word.  "Mary, I need to talk about more than 'this'.  I can't just sit and think, talk, and think more about this.  We need to talk about more than this with each other.  Besides, it never bothered you before to talk about guys."  At least she smiled.  And talk we did.  About her date, about other guys at school.  About other girls at school.  And what the other girls said about the boys.  We talked until her parents and brother came home.  We went in to the kitchen where they had tons of groceries they were bringing in.

When Mary's mom saw me she came over and hugged me.  Which was par for the course.  It never bothered me when she hugged me.  But when other people did, it did bother me.  I don't know why.  "Nicky it seems like such a long time since I've seen you."

"Funny you should say that.  How would you like to see a lot of me?"  Mark stopped in his tracks and listened.  I always thought he kind of had a crush on me.

"What do you mean?"  She started sticking boxes in the pantry.

"Mom and dad wanted to go to mom's sister's house,  And of my choices of where I could go or what I could do, I was hoping I could stay here until they get back.  Which won't be until Wednesday or Thursday."

"I think that would be great.  I'll call your mom when I get done with these."  I glanced at Mark and caught a quick glance of him smiling.  But when he saw me look he rolled his eyes as if he were disgusted and went outside to help his dad get more bags.

I helped with the groceries since I was as familiar with their kitchen as I was my own.  Mary's dad came in and punched me in the arm like he always did.  He was a pretty quiet guy but pretty comfortable to be around.  Mark was everywhere but seemed to be doing nothing.  Which Mary said was par for the course.  Mary walked down to my house and we went to my room to start packing my stuff.  Mom and dad were in their room packing when I went down to ask for a suitcase.

My Job

I made it through dinner, dishes and just sitting and watching a little TV with mom and dad.  They seemed as preoccupied as me, so none of us were very demanding of each other.  I finally felt it was okay to excuse myself to do homework and go to bed.  No questions asked and I left them for my room.

Though I was really tired of trying to focus on what others expected of me, and focusing on just paying attention I knew I had to do my homework.  There was some pleasure in completing it.  I always liked my work to be in order, and if things weren't done, I wasn't happy.  So completing my homework gave me that sense of satisfaction.  Even if it did require some struggle to stay on task with it.   The struggle wasn't in the work.  The struggle was in not drifting and wondering.  The struggle was not in just letting myself go following my often wondering and day dreaming nature.

Night, dark, my comfort. The work was done.  The homework, and the work of the day.  It didn't make sense to me that I felt safe in the dark.  It would have made more sense to fear the dark and all of the evils that are synonymous with dark.  Yet comfort is what I felt.  Maybe it was comfort in the softness of the dark, no harshness like there is in the bright of the day.  Whatever the reason, again I found myself relaxing at the window with it cracked open enough for cold, fresh air.  Again I made it to my bed, laying under the unruffled covers, trying to roll the pillow under my aching neck.

Thinking, remembering again and again the smells of him, the noises he made.  Mostly remembering the feeling.  Do you know what it is like to be small, so small?  Because you are small, there is something that traps you, does to you-uses you-because they can.  They are confident in their actions because they control you in your fear.  All the while you grow up and this is the foundation you build your life on, it is with you more than anything.  It is the first think that is there when you sleep, when you wake, when you think.  You can't forget it.  You can't get away from it.  Every place you go, it goes with you.  I lay staring at the ceiling, no desire to sleep.  Everything I think about doing is done so with the thought of what has happened.

My body feels heavy.  As heavy as my thinking.  That must sound strange to others.  How could you understand this?  I didn't feel like what I had, physically, belonged to me.  Sometimes in my thoughts I would feel this incredible urge to run.  Not run away.  The actual act of running.  There was no desire from my body to do so.  Like my mind could not connect with my body, or maybe it was my desires didn't really feel a part of me.  I don't know.  But I thought about running a lot.  Yet I had no physical desire to run.

Again my morning starts with me not knowing if I slept or not.  Or rather, I felt like I had thought the whole night through.  My morning routine I could do without thinking, without a need for decisions.  Thankfully.  But it was Saturday.  A whole day.  Man.  While I stared in my mirror I heard mom coming down the hallway and knock on my door.

"Good morning Nicky".

"Hey mom."   She opened the door and looked at me, I glanced at her with a smile from the mirror.

"Mary called and wants you to call her when you get a chance."

"Okay, thanks."  Mom came in and sat on my already made bed.  I had to make every effort to not cringe when she sat on it.  I went about making sure everything was where it was suppose to be in my room, which was pointless, because everything was always where it was suppose to be.  But I went to great pains to make sure.  Mom just watched for a minute.

"Nicky...everything is clean for heaven's sake."  She laughed but there was no humor in the sound.  I stopped and looked at her.  Really looked, made an effort to focus on her.

"You okay mom?"  I sat on my desk chair to keep me still and try to pay attention.  It looked like she needed it.

"Yes.  I guess.  I'm just bothered by what happened to Curtis."  

For lack of anything better to say "he'll be okay mom" was all I could think of to say.

"I'm sure Marie and Rick will make sure of that.  As best they can.  I sure don't envy them having to decide what to do."

"What are they going to do?"

"I called her last night.  I think they are going ahead and pressing charges.  Curtis isn't happy about it.  But they explained to him their concerns for his friend.  And how many other friends of his might this have happened to.  He didn't like it.  He was pretty emotional but I think he understands the idea of protecting others."

"How's come dad got so mad?"

She looked at me with the 'I don't know how much I'm suppose to tell you'  parent looks.  I just waited her out.  She had to say something.

"It hit close to his heart Nicky.  It's disgusting as it is but when someone you know is hurt that makes it worse."  I assumed she was talking about Curtis.  "I'm sure this isn't something he would tell you, but Doug was molested when he was a child.  That was part of the reason that he came to live with your dad's family.  Your father can't believe what people do to children.  He's always felt he needed to protect Doug."

Protect Doug.  I wonder what dad would feel about him now.  Would he blame what happened to Doug for what Doug does.   Did.  Mom was watching me for some reaction.  I didn't care what happened to Doug.  I didn't know what to say or do.  "I didn't want to tell you that, I didn't know what to say either when your dad told me.  It's just so sad."

Yeah, sad is a word I would use.  "Yeah... I better call Mary mom."  She just sat there and nodded while she thought about feeling sorry for Doug.  

I had to leave the room so I didn't bother using my cell phone.  I went to the kitchen to use the house phone.  I called Mary and made plans to go to her house after I ate.  I probably should stay with mom and dad for just a little bit this morning.  I could hear in her voice that she wanted to talk, and I sure hope it was something about anything other than me.  I didn't really want to talk to anyone, but heaven knows she sure listened to me a lot.  Ah!  She went on that date with Tim last night.  I'll have to ask her first thing so she knows I was thinking about her.  I set myself about to making myself some breakfast, scrambled eggs, toast, I even got myself a cup of coffee.  Mom wandered in and grinned at me while I sat eating.  She down across from me with her own coffee.  

"Where's dad?"

"He went in to work for a little bit.  He's going to see about taking some time off this week.  We were thinking about driving out to Marie and Rick's.  We thought they might be able to use some family support right now." I nodded in reply as I ate.  Did "we" mean all of us? I was afraid to ask, but of course, didn't have to as mom went on.  "We didn't know if you wanted to go or not.  You could stay here and we could see if Doug would come over to the house with you.  Or you could stay at Mary's.  What do you think?"

Hmmmmmmm.  Stay here with Doug, go to Mary's.  Or go to aunt Marie's where all they will talk about is Curtis and what happened to him.  I would rather stay alone but what are the chances of that?

"How long are you going to be gone?"

"If we can we were going to leave tonight or tomorrow.  Come back Wednesday, maybe Thursday."

I tried to look thoughtful.  Like I was contemplating.  "I think I would rather stay at Mary's.  We could work on our papers and school work.  I was going there after I eat.  I'll ask then."

She nodded.  She just didn't seem her happy self, I mean I guess I understand about Curtis and all that.  I concentrated on my eggs and toast.  "Nicky...." pause from her and my stomach suddenly clenched.  "I'd like to ask you something."

"Okay."  I mumbled through my full mouth.

"I really don't know how to ask, but since the other day, I guess none of us are really safe from this kind of thing.  Anyway...have you ever....has anyone...ever..."  she looked at her hands around her coffee mug.  Tell her.  Tell her what happened.  This is what she needs to know.  This is where I open my mouth and tell her.  Her hands were betraying her nervousness, along with her voice and her face.  She couldn't take this.  And how would I tell her 'yes mom, Doug, ever since I can remember'.   And then let her live with that.

"No mom".  I looked her straight in the eyes, because that's what she needed, and what I needed to do for her.  I couldn't tell her.  Besides it was over now, it wasn't going to happen again.   She visibly relaxed.  

"I guess it's kind of late to ask.  I mean, Curtis is ten and it happened to him.  I just needed to ask."

"I know mom.  It's okay."  Would I have answered differently if she had asked ten years ago, or five?  Suddenly I felt like her mother.  I was protecting her from something I should never had to go through.  We had switched roles in that minute.  She would never know it and it was my self appointed job to make sure she never knew.  After I ate I cleaned up my dishes, decided the whole kitchen needed cleaning and made it to Mary's about an hour later.  No one was there but Mary.  So we laid about in the family room with the TV playing music that we didn't pay any attention to.

Nothing Is Best

I met up with Mary after school.  We managed to walk home and talk about anything but me.  I felt terrible having told Mary anything at all.  I knew it was causing her problems that I made her promise not to tell her mom.  At her house we went inside and had ham and cheese sandwiches and iced tea.  Finally she said it.  

"Nicky I wish you would let me tell mom about you."

"What about me?"  I smiled at her, but she wasn't smiling back.  "I'm kidding.  It's over Mary.   There isn't anything to tell now."

"You know better than that.  It isn't over because he doesn't touch you anymore.  It doesn't take away everything that he did to you, and it doesn't replace everything he took from you."

"Mary....sometimes I wish I hadn't told you."   I didn't want to look at her when we talked about this.   I didn't want to talk about this.  When I glanced up at her instead of peering intently at my plate of sandwich crumbs I caught the pained look on her face.  Quickly I reached out to pat her hand.  My hand hung there for just a second then I withdrew my hand.  Without ever actually touching her.  "Don't take it that way Mary.  What I mean is I feel bad that I told you all of this and now you feel like it's your place to take care of me.  I am okay.  I told you because just saying it to someone else was the help I needed.  I don't expect you to change anything that happened.  I never expected that.  And when I told you, I never thought about how it might change how you think about me."

She thrust her face forward "I haven't changed how I think about you.  But I feel helpless when I think about what you're going through."

"Went through"  I corrected her.  "That's part of what I mean.  I didn't expect anything from telling you.  And what's worse, I never meant for you to feel helpless.  I didn't do you any favors by telling you."

"I don't know what you're thinking right now Nicky but you are my friend.  And you can tell me anything you want.  And it's only natural that I would want to help you.  And I can't because I've been respecting what you told me and asked of me.  So I also feel as your friend I should tell you that I think you are making a mistake by not telling your parents."

"You should have seem them this morning  when they were talking about Curtis.  I can't imagine how they would act if it was me."

"You don't have to imagine.  You tell them and find out."

"Dad would probably kill Doug.  Or have a heart attack.  Mom would go ballistic."

"Then let them, give them that chance.  It's not your job to protect them."

Without meaning to sound so loud I jumped on that.  "Yes it is!  It is my job!  there isn't anyone else to protect them. If I told them than everything would change."

"Everything as they know it isn't real Nicky!  They think they've provided you with a safe life.  And you aren't giving them the chance to do that!"

"They can't now anyway, so what's the point?"

"If nothing else, than to put the prick in jail, get him out of your life.  It's not right Nicky!"

"Jail?  He's like a brother to dad.  I couldn't see him in jail."  Jail?  Doug?  Dad would be heartbroken.  So would Grandpa.  Grandma would never forgive me.  Mary's eyes were large, and incredulous.

"Yes jail.  What do you think he should get, a trophy?  A brother to your dad?  Your dad has brothers, he doesn't need Doug!"

"Shit Mary.  Nothing can ever be right again.  There isn't anything we can do to change that.  Nothing.  There isn't a perfect life to be had."   This was getting way to ugly, or real, and going no where.  "Look Mary, I knew this was going to happen.  I didn't ever tell anyone because I didn't want to spend my life talking about it.  It's over.  And that's what I needed to happen."

I wish I could have read everything in her face then, and everything she was thinking.  But we both knew we were going someplace with this that I didn't want to go.  Didn't want to deal with.  And she knew I should.  In all honesty, I knew it also, but still, I didn't want to.  "Nicky, I wish I could talk you into telling somebody, somebody who could help you.  But I guess all I can do right now is do what you think you need and what you ask.  If you want to talk, you know where I am.  If you want to have fun, you know where I am.  If all you want is to be around somebody who won't expect anything but understands you just need to be there, you know where I am."

Grateful for all that she didn't say I knew this was a 'hug your friend moment'.  But she knew that would not happen.  All I could do was say "thank you".  Quietly.  And that was more than I wanted to say.  I didn't want to talk.  I didn't want to be around anyone.  This thing separated me from everyone else.  I went home.   It's hard to live in a world full of people when you don't want to be around them.

Dad was home, early.

More of the same.  I live my life but everyone else's expectations.  I didn't want dad to be home.  I didn't have the energy to talk to people.  I needed my energy to deal with what was always in my head.

I went to the kitchen where he sat reading the paper.  I was afraid to say anything because of the discussion this morning about Curtis.  I wanted to be up in my room.   Door closed.  I was always weary of what other's wanted, even by way of discussion.  

He must not have wanted to discuss it either.  We didn't say much more than hello and how's it going.  And when mom got home they didn't discuss it either.  I got the feeling they were both mad, but more at the situation than at each other.  They were both passive by nature.  In my opinion dad's reaction was a little startling, mom's seemed par for the course.  Mom and I made dinner together which I think she enjoyed.  I guess I did too.  But I couldn't wait to go upstairs and be alone.  It wasn't that I wanted to be away from them, I just wanted to be by myself.

My focus was shot.  The only thing I could get into heavily was thinking about Doug, and the past.  And it was my past.  So why did it sit right in the front of my head where all of my other thoughts and concerns had to go around it.  I had to make a conscious effort to stop thinking about Doug and everything associated with Doug to think about or work on anything else.  Stop thinking about it and pay attention to what Mary is saying.  What is mom saying.  What did dad just ask?  What was the answer to problem number 17?  What was I suppose to do?  When was I suppose to do it?  Every day, all day, I had to make myself pay attention to my life.  So it was a big relief to go upstairs at the end of every day and be able to stop struggling at thinking.  Just let it happen.  Don't fight it.  Odd as it sounds, there was comfort in being alone, even if all I did was think about what I hated most.

Even when I wasn't thinking about "it" there was comfort in not having to think about anything.

Happier Day....?

What am I?  A virgin?  I tried to picture doing these things with someone who loved me.  Why would I ever want to do those things with someone I loved?  Dirty.  Disgusting.  Frightening.  I got up and got in bed, laying flat on my back, I straightened my covers around me and put my pillow under my neck.  I bet one of those pillows made just for the purpose of putting under your neck sure would help me sleep better.  I could never sleep a night through and my neck always hurts.  Maybe I should ask mom to get me one.

Mom....dad...I pictured them talking.  But not about anything like this.  I could not picture them hearing about this, or talking about this, or dealing with this.  They seemed so innocent, my parents...innocent.  Shouldn't that be the other way around?  Why did they seem so naive to me, and why do I feel so old?

The morning began with the same thoughts  I fell to sleep with, I think I slept.  While I dressed and did some light make up I looked in the mirror and promised myself to be a little happier today.  Starting with mom and dad at breakfast.  They were already sitting and talking when I walked in to the kitchen and started making toast.

"Good morning parents".  I smiled my most sincere, happy smile.  They returned the smiles and the good morning.  But they didn't keep talking about whatever they had been talking about before I came in.  I turned my head to look at them while I got apple juice out of the refrigerator and poured a glass.  "What's up with you two?  You're acting all secretive this morning."  They looked at me with those parent smiles that say 'we don't know what to say to you.'

Mom tried to cover with "you look very nice this morning, anything special going on at school?"

"Nope, it's just Friday, I guess most of us like to look good on Friday.  Don't ask me why."  I sat with them and started on my toast.

"Maybe it's because everyone is hoping for a date or something."  Dad looked pleased with himself.  He's probably right for the most part.  I smiled at his deducing.

"Maybe dad, I guess that could be the reason for some of my more desperate school chums."

"Maybe we should call them hopeful, dear, and not desperate."   Mom liked putting a nicer, positive, face on things.

"I think you're right mom."  I smiled at her genuine kindness.  We all ate silently for a minute.  "So what has you took all shook up this morning?"   

They did that parent thing, and parents seem to have a lot of these, where they look at each other and for a minute I thought I was going to get that 'oh nothing honey'  and watch them dance around their uneasiness act.  I did not.  Instead I got something I that I thought my parents didn't understand, couldn't comprehend, and would never be prepared for.

"I guess you're capable of understanding this sort of thing.  Horrible as it is."  Mom looked at dad for his just noticeable tilt of his head in agreement.  Sometimes they were too funny.  Too predictable.  "We had a phone call last night from aunt Marie" mom's sister "and I guess your cousin Curtis may have been..."  She obviously didn't know what to say, and her eyes started to tear up.  I looked to dad.  His eyes started to tear up watching mom.  I started to feel a little panic, a lot of panic at seeing them like this.  I couldn't speak.

"It seems that someone had been molesting him."  Dad turned red when he said it.  At first I thought it was embarrassment, but it wasn't, it was anger.  I pictured Curtis, he would be....ten I think.  Aunt Marie and uncle Rick must be frantic.

"Had been?  Did they catch him?  What happened?"  They had both managed to stop the tears before they actually cried.  But they both seemed pretty shook up.  For some reason, I felt somewhat calmer.

"It was one of his friend's father."  I wouldn't know who they would be talking about.  Aunt Marie and uncle Rick had moved to another state about three years ago.  Though mom and aunt Marie kept very close with emails and phone calls we only got to see them on major holidays.   "They just found out a  couple of days ago, Curtis came home from school and told Marie he needed to talk to her.  I guess they had had a program in school that day about good touch/bad touch.  Anyway, he just came out and told Marie that this other boy's father had been touching him and he didn't like it."

"You mean he just told her?"  I couldn't believe it.  My chest hurt.  Little Curtis, how could he just tell like that?

"Yes.  Thank God.  I guess it still happened quite a few times.  Now they're trying to decide what to do."

"Decide?  That's what I don't get.  There is no deciding.  They go to the police and charge the son of a bitch." Okay....startled doesn't cut it when I try to explain my surprise at dad's reaction.  Mom looked a little worn out as soon as he said it, I got the impression this must have been some kind of discussion between them.  We were quiet again for a minute.  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell like that."  Mom reached out and touched his hand.

She turned to me to explain.  "I guess Curtis is asking them not to do anything.  Because of his little friend.  Marie isn't sure what to do, and of course Rick would like to create his own justice."  Way to go uncle Rick, was my first thought.   But I understood Curtis.

"I'm telling you Peg, if this guy was doing something like that to somebody' else's kid, don't you think he's doing it to his own kid?  Going to the police is probably the only way to protect the other boy."

"Neil" this discussion has been had before.   "I agree with you.  But I understand Marie and Rick's problem.  For heaven's sake they just found out, it's not like anyone has practice at dealing with this type of thing.  They need to do what is best for them, and they don't know what that is."

"I still think something should be done quickly.  How many kids has this guy done this to?  How many more if someone doesn't do something?"  Dad got up from the table and poured himself some more coffee.  I had never seen dad this angry, he couldn't sit back down he was so worked up.  "Curtis is only ten years old.  What the hell will this do to him for the rest of his life?"  None of us could answer that.  I didn't want the answer.  More silence.

I got up from the table.  The toast was gone, I finished my juice hoping it would help my dry throat.  I put my glass in the sink.  "I think I should go to school."  Dad hugged me and kissed me, but couldn't, or didn't, say anything.  Mom kissed my cheek.  I grabbed my backpack from the bottom of the steps and headed out the door.  I might be late, but I think this is a good day for walking.  As I was heading towards Mary's house she came out, she met me on the sidewalk.

"I've been waiting for you."

"Thanks.  Do you feel like walking?"  She shrugged an 'I don't care'.  I had thoughts and memories racing through my head.  Fog was settling over my brain and my intent to have a good day.

We walked in silence for a few mintues.  "Nicky?"

"Hmmmmm?"

"Do you think it's wrong to go out with a guy just because he likes you?"  We could do this.   Start a conversation like we had been talking all day.

"No, I mean, you're just going out.  It's not like you're making a commitment.  It's a date.  That's what dates are for.  To find out if you like someone.  To have fun."

"Are you mad about something?"

"Why, do I sound mad?"  I didn't like people to be able to read me, sometimes Mary could and sometimes she couldn't.  I felt safer if people could not.

"I don't know, that's why I asked."

"No, I don't think I'm mad.  I'm something.  But I don't know what it is."

"Oh."  I guess I didn't give her much to respond to.

I was quiet for a minute.  "Doug was at my house when I went home from school yesterday."  She stopped dead in her tracks and grabbed my elbow.  Which stopped me.  Made me look at her.  Which I had managed to not do since we started walking.

"Were your parents there?"

"No."

"Shit Nicky!  I am so sorry!!  I didn't see his car when you left my house."

"I didn't either.  he said he parked it somewhere else."  She just stared at me, not knowing what to say.  I know she wanted to ask if anything happened, but didn't want to make me tell her.  "I told him not to touch me."  It sounded so simple.

Don't touch me.

"Did he get mad?"

"No, I think he got scared."

"Scared?"   

"Yeah, because then he left."

"Left?  He just left?"

"Yeah, just like that, he left."  Now, I feel mad.  I started walking and she nearly jumped to catch up to me.  "I can't believe after all of these years, all I had to say was 'don't touch me'."  Maybe it was saying it out loud to another person that made it worse, but I could feel my face turning hot with anger and shame.  "I let it go on." This time when she grabbed my arm by my elbow she nearly pulled my arm out of joint.

"No, you didn't!"  I know she said it quietly.  But it felt like she was yelling at me.  I pulled my arm free from her grasp.  "Nicky...don't do this to yourself.  You did not let it go on.  You didn't let it happen.  It wasn't your fault."  I started walking again, faster.  She matched my stride and kept up.

"It sure feels that way Mary.   Guess what else happened?" I glanced at her as my insides boiled.   I could see her looking bewildered like something else could happen that was worse.  "At breakfast this morning mom and dad told me that my little cousin Curtis had been molested.  And you know what Curtis did?"  I didn't give her a chance to respond.  "He told.  He just told his mom!  And guess what?  It stopped.  Of course it stopped!  It won't happen to him again."

"Nicky you can't compare yourself to him, or anyone else."

"I know I can't.  Because I'm not like anyone else.  I'm even too stupid to tell me parents when someone..."  I couldn't say it.  Wouldn't say it.  I slowed down when I realized Mary was trying to talk and almost run at the same time.  I put her in a bad situation.  I stopped and turned to look at her.  Now she would worry about me all day.  "You know what Mary?"  She didn't know what, she had no idea what to expect from me.  "You are a good friend.  I can say stupid stuff like this to you because I know that you know I have to have my moment of anxiety."   She looked at me like she didn't believe me.  "Besides, don't you think it would be abnormal of me if I didn't act angry at some point about all of this?"

I knew she wouldn't argue with me about that.  Not after all of the books she had read, and discussions we had had about this in the last six months.  We started walking again.

"I just worry about you Nicky."

I knew it.  "You don't have to Mary.  I'm going to be all right.  It's over.  When he left I knew he wouldn't be coming back."

"How can you be sure?"

"I just am."  And this was just the start of my 'happier day'.  Fortunately school was painless and quick.  I worked hard and was relieved I had done all of the homework I was suppose to.  I never understood how other kids could just not do their homework.  That's a terrible feeling when the teacher asks for assignments and you don't have yours.  Why would anyone do that on purpose?  At lunch I slipped away and sat outside in the cool air with a bag of chips and a diet cola.  The air felt so cool, so clean, I love this feeling.  It felt like a little vacation sitting there all by myself.  I think I actually felt good.  And reveled in it.

What Am I?

"I guess I have been kind of a hermit lately, but I've been working on a lot of stuff lately."  I can't believe they can't see!  I hope they can't see.  I looked across the street so I wasn't looking at them, I was afraid they would see.   I was trying to look at them, to see if they were looking at me.  Didn't I look different?

"What do you get to do on the paper this year?  You never did say."  Mom seemed kind of quiet, just sitting there with a funny look-looking at me.  Was she scrutinizing me like I was scrutinizing them?  I want to go to my room.  Close the door.  Be alone.   Forever.

It's safer.

But I had to exist with this.   "One of the assistant editors from last year got student editor this year, but I'm the assistant editor for this year."

"The assistant?  That's pretty good isn't it?"  Dad was always one to feel proud about accomplishments.  I couldn't help but give him a real smile.

"That is pretty good dad.  But it would have been better if I wasn't the only one who wanted it.  Doesn't make  for a great victory if there are no opponents."

He laughed but pointed out that taking on more responsibility is a great accomplishment.  His positive nature was contagious. It did feel good.  Mom even let go of that silly look on her face.  We sat quietly, which seemed to fit mine and mom's mood.  Not that I knew what her mood was.  I just knew something was not quite right with her.  Dad always seemed content with what ever he was doing.  I kind of envied that.  I don't know that I would know what content felt like.  I had the glider moving slow and steady.  Mom and dad were swinging just as slow.  For such a nice evening it sure was crappy.  I looked down the street.  It seemed like a tunnel.  Just going.

I can't believe I didn't say those three words years ago.

It was getting dark, and kind of cold.  But it felt good...not good.  I don't know how it felt.

Without speaking mom and dad got up and went inside, they both caressed my cheek as they went by.  Not that I didn't want them to touch me, but it didn't give me comfort either.  I waited a few minutes and went in to join them in front of the TV.  I was only sitting a minute before I remembered my homework.  "I need to go up and do my homework.  I didn't finish it yet."   Because it was expected of me I went and kissed them each on the cheek.  Told them goodnight.

Upstairs in my room I only turned on the desk lamp.  I liked the dark.  I worked on my homework.  And it was work to try and stay focused when I felt so out of focus.  Nothing seemed clear, my head felt foggy, and I didn't want to have to think about or do anything.  There was no desire to do anything.  But I had things I had to do.  And the things I had to do always had to be done.   Like homework.  School.  Be with people.

Think.   The worst thing of all.

When I finished everything I packed all of my books in to my backpack and put it by the door.  I opened one of my windows a crack to let some of the cold air in.  I put my nose right to the window and felt the tingle of the air in my nose.  Once changed in to my pajamas I set the alarm, turned off the light and sat by the window.  Looking out, but not seeing anything.

All this time, all this crap.  I pulled my knees up to my chin and wrapped my arms around my legs.  Who would ever want a used up something like me?  What was I anyway?  What boy would ever believe I was young, innocent and scared.  Who would ever believe that I didn't even know how to kiss a boy?  That I don't know what it feels like to have someone hold me and love me.  I wouldn't have a clue as to what I could possibly have to say to anyone who would ever be interested in me.  And just why would anyone?

Today.  My life changed.  And no one knows.

Without wanting to, and without being able to stop myself, I replayed what he had done to me.  Moments.  Pictures.  Flashes.  All of the fear thumped, pounded, in my heart as if it was right now.  How could I ever tell someone about these things and expect them to think of me as....

As what?