Raven (Orphans 4)

"Yes," I said. "Yes."

He was practically standing over me, his face dark red with fury. I had no doubt he would strike me if he saw fit to do so, and I was afraid.

"Raven," he muttered with a twist in his lips. "What kind of a name is that to give a girl, anyway? She must have been drunk the day you was born."

"I like my name," I insisted. He was terrifying, but I had some pride.

He stood there a few minutes longer, gazing down at me. I pulled the comforter up to my shoulders, but I felt as if he could see right through it.

"I know you're growing older and growing fast, and I remember what happened to your mother, how she was when the boys started looking her way. You better not be taking the same road. I don't want you corrupting my Jennifer, hear?"

I turned away, the tears in my eyes making it impossible to look up at him anymore. I wasn't some disease. I wouldn't infect his precious Jennifer.

He grunted and left the room. I could hear him telling Aunt Clara what he had told me, what he wanted to be my chores. She didn't argue. A little while later, I heard him leave with Jennifer and William. I waited and rose.

"You hungry, dear?" Aunt Clara asked as I went to the bathroom.

"Just a little," I said.

"Coffee is still warm, and I have eggs if you want, even oatmeal."

"I'll take care of myself, Aunt Clara. Please don't think you have to wait on me," I said.

"Don't you worry about that," she said.

I got dressed and found myself some cold cereal. Aunt Clara poured me some orange juice and sat with me as I ate.

"Reuben's bark is worse than his bite," she said, trying to reassure me. "He's just upset with the surprise and all. Don't pay no mind to all those orders he gave."

"I don't mind helping out," I told her. "I did most of it at home, anyway."

"I bet you did." She nodded and sipped some coffee.

"Aunt Clara, what's going to happen to my mother? Is she really going to jail for a long time?" I asked.

"I don't know. Reuben mumbled something about them maybe putting her in a drug rehabilitation program, but we'll have to wait and see. You know, it's not her first time getting herself into big trouble," she added.

I nodded. There was no sense pretending it wasn't true or living in a dream world. Mama was in very big trouble, and that meant I was in trouble, too. Who wanted to live here with a cousin like Jennifer and an uncle like Uncle Reuben? I'd rather be in the streets.

"You just rest up a bit, honey," Aunt Clara said. "You've been through a terrible shock. After I tend to some chores, we'll have lunch, and right after that, I'll run you over to the school to get you enrolled, okay?"

"I'll help you with your chores, Aunt Clara. It's what Uncle Reuben wants, anyway," I said, "and it will help keep the peace."

"Ain't you the smart one?" she said, smiling. She tapped my hand. "Just sit here and finish your breakfast first."

She left and went upstairs. When I was done, I washed all the dishes and cleaned the table. I joined her just as she was starting on Jennifer's room. I paused in the doorway, shocked at the mess. Clothes were strewn about, and there was a dish with leftover apple pie on the floor by the bed, where the phone had been left as well. I imagined she had been sitting there talking to some friends and eating the pie, but why did she just leave it? Wasn't she worried about mice and bugs?

The bed was unmade, and the bathroom she shared with William looked as if someone had had to leave in a hurry. Makeup was uncov

ered, the sink was still full of cloudy water, an open lipstick tube was on its side, the toothpaste was uncovered with some of it dripped onto the counter, a washcloth dangled over the doorknob, and there were magazines on the floor by the toilet. The shower door was open, a wet towel on the floor beside it.

Aunt Clara began to clean up without making a comment about the mess.

"Why does she leave her room and bathroom like this, Aunt Clara? Talk about living in a pig sty," I muttered. "I guess Uncle Reuben doesn't look in here often."

"Oh, he does," Aunt Clara said with a deep sigh. "And I've been after her, but Jennifer . . . Jennifer's a little spoiled," she admitted.

"A little? This looks like spoiled rotten," I said, but I pitched in and helped. I cleaned the bathroom until it looked spotless, even washing down the mirrors that were smudged with lipstick and makeup.