"We didn't do anything, Uncle Reuben. Honest, William was just showing me his birdhouses." I was probably just making him more furious, but I had no idea why he had gotten so angry, and I was ashamed that I was leaving William to face his father's fury all alone.
Not stopping to look back, I ran downstairs and straight into my room, shutting the door tightly behind me. I knew that Uncle Reuben would break down the door if he wanted to, but the house was quiet suddenly, and I prayed that maybe I was safe. For now.
I tried to start on my math homework, but there was no way I could concentrate with my heart still racing and my pulse pounding. What if Uncle Reuben was upstairs hurting William? What did he think we were doing, anyway?
William already lived in constant fear of being ridiculed and belittled by his father, and now it seemed that Uncle Reuben had one more thing to add to his ammunition--against both of us.
It was obvious even to me that the reason William was so withdrawn was that he was afraid. Afraid that he would get yelled at, made fun of, or maybe even worse. I knew Aunt Clara was concerned about William; she even talked about taking him to a doctor. Why couldn't she see that the reason William was so quiet and timid was that he was afraid?
What would happen if I stayed in this house where I was belittled and ridiculed as well--for my birth, for my mother, for things I hadn't even done? Would I become like William? Would I just one day disappear inside myself?
Just as I was opening my math book, Aunt Clara poked her head in the door. "Raven, are you all right?" Her eyes were all red and puffy, and I could see that she'd been crying.
"Yes, Aunt Clara, I'm fine. How is William? Uncle Reuben didn't hurt him, did he? We weren't doing anything bad, Aunt Clara! I was just thanking William for showing me his bird
houses. We. . . we . . ." Talking about it made me upset all over again, and I began sobbing so hard I couldn't even speak.
Aunt Clara came to sit beside me on the bed. "Shh . . . I know, dear, I know. Everything will be fine."
"But, but William . . . what did Uncle Reuben do to him?" Why wasn't she answering my questions?
"He's fine, dear, but please, promise me not to speak of this again. Reuben will just get upset all over again. Promise me you won't speak of it!"
"I promise, Aunt Clara."
She stood there for a few moments, then told me not to stay up too late studying, and left. I sat with my math book on my lap and stared up at the dark ceiling. I could hear Uncle Reuben's heavy footsteps, a door close, water running, and a phone ringing. Poor William, I thought. I had seen it in his face. He was terrified. What about Aunt Clara? Had she built a wall of self-denial around herself, shutting up the dark secrets? Like a coiled fuse attached to a time bomb, sooner or later all the horror in this house was sure to explode.
I didn't want to be here before. I surely didn't want to be here now, but what choice did I have? I had no father. I had no other relatives. I felt trapped, caged in by events far beyond my control. It heightened the panic that throbbed so loudly in my heart, I thought for sure it sounded like a jungle drum beating out the rhythms of alarm.
What should I pray for? My mother's
miraculous appearance? My mystery father's sudden interest in a daughter he had never known? Who was more lost than me, someone without even a real name, forced to live with people who really didn't want me?
A real rumble of thunder pounded at the windowpane and was soon followed by a downpour. Thick raindrops tapped at the window as the wind grew stronger, slapping torrents against the walls. I heard Aunt Clara rushing around downstairs shutting windows. Then I heard Uncle Reuben curse from the top of the stairs. Moments later, it was silent except for the monotonous sound of drizzle. I could feel the darkness deepening around me, wrapping itself around this house.
My cheeks felt cold. All my tears had turned to ice behind my eyes. I turned over and buried my face in the pillow as I tightened myself into the fetal position and swallowed back my fear and loneliness.
Sunlight fell on my face and woke me up just as Uncle Reuben was coming down the stairs. I flew off the bed and hurried to the bathroom. Even before I could wash my face, he was bellowing about my not being in the kitchen helping Aunt Clara prepare breakfast for everyone. It looked as if things were back to normal.
"Why weren't you up and helping?" Uncle Reuben demanded.
William entered and took his seat at the table. His eyes met mine for a moment before he looked down at his cereal and juice.
Uncle Reuben looked from William to me and slammed his fist down on the table. "I don't ever want to catch you in William's room again, understand?"
"Yes," I said, hoping that that would be the last said about last night.
"And today, again, I got to take time out of my busy schedule to look into your problems. I bet your mother never spent a minute on you. Did she ever go to the school to see how you were doing?"
I sat and began to sip my orange juice.
"When I speak to you, I want you to look at me and respond," he ordered.
"No, she never did," I said.
"I didn't think so," he said, pleased with my answer. He looked at Aunt Clara, who kept busy at the sink.
"Jennifer should come down, Reuben. She'll be late for the bus."