Was there a snake whispering in our ears?
"This is it, isn't it?" the nurse asked me as we drove up to my house.
"Yes. Thank you, Mrs. Miller."
"Is that your brother's car in the driveway?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Well, good. Someone's home. I'll be sure to let your parents know you've been brought home. Just rest for a while," she said. "You'll be fine."
"Thanks again:' I said, getting out.
She nodded and backed out of the driveway. I looked at Jesse's car and then hurried into the house, taking care not to touch the recently painted railings.
The first thing that struck me was the silence. I stood in the entryway for a few moments listening. Then I went into the kitchen and saw Jesse had bought the bags of groceries Mama had asked him to buy. The empty bags rested on the counter. Everything had been put away. So that's where he was when the nurse had called, I thought.
"Jesse," I called, moving toward the living room. I listened again, but I didn't hear him anywhere downstairs. It occurred to me that he could be in the back, working on the grass or staining the wooden landing. I hurried to the rear door and stepped out.
Circles of maddening insects hovered above the recently cut grass, but Jesse was nowhere in sight. My heart sank. I knew where he was. I knew it the moment I had driven up with the school nurse, but I had gone through the motions, searching for him everywhere else, in hopes I was wrong. It was time to stop burying my head in the sand, time to stop the lying. If we were going to help Karen, we would do it together.
I returned to the stairway and ascended, glancing once into Jesse's room to be sure he wasn't there. The silence told me he was in the attic. Why was it so silent? If he didn't know I had come home or hadn't seen the nurse's car, there was no reason for him to be so quiet with Karen. Perhaps they had left together to carry out some sort of plan.
I hesitated at the attic door, listening hard. I thought I did hear some low murmuring, so I closed my eyes, sucked in my breath, and turned the knob. Once I entered the attic, I thought, it was over, the pretending was over. I stepped in softly, slowly, and for a moment, I thought the attic was empty. Then I saw them.
They were naked on the sofa, our sofa, the sofa where Karen and I had staged so many fantasies, imagined trips, and spun out so many dreams. It wasn't hard to see what they were doing. It was Karen who saw me first, turning her head to the right. I heard her say, "Oh," and then Jesse turned.
I couldn't stand there. I stepped back, shutting the door hard and fast, and then charged down the attic steps. It was as if I had sprouted wings. I flew down the main stairway and burst out the front door. All I could think to do was run, flee, escape from the sight and the memory that clung to me like the cans malicious young boys tied to the tail of a poor dog. Somehow, I thought if I ran harder, faster, I could block out the memory and the shock of it all, but it wasn't working, and my chest felt as if it was expanding to the point where my ribs would crack and I would just come apart on the road.
"Zipporah!" I heard. "Zipporah, wait!"
I stopped running and glanced back. Jesse was in his pants, barefoot and shirtless, charging after me. I just turned away and walked, holding my side to stop the pain. Fortunately, there were no cars, no one. The road looked as if it led to nowhere. The thickened forest was still, and I realized there wasn't even a slight breeze. It was as if the whole world had stopped turning for a moment to wait and to see.
"Zipporah," Jesse said, and reached out to grab my left arm at the elbow. I stopped, but I didn't turn. I kept my head down. "What are you doing home from school?" he asked as if all that I had seen and all that had happened was somehow my fault. I didn't reply. I simply stood there, staring at the road.
"I know this looks weird, frightening, but I can explain it," he said.
I took a deep breath. A crow came flying out of a tree ahead of us, swooped toward the road, and lifted itself over the tops of the pine and the birch. How I wished I could grab onto it and go wherever it was going.
"Yesterday, I discovered Karen had come to our house," Jesse continued.
I turned and looked at him.
"She was desperate. She had gone to New York and had a horrible time of it. She came to our house for help. I couldn't turn her out."
"I saw the help you were giving her," I said sharply.
My big brother, who had loomed somewhere near Mars in the celestial skies for me, had suddenly fallen to earth. In his pants, barefoot and shirtless, he seemed smaller, even embarrassing, to the point where I was worried someone would come along and see me with him. I pulled my arm from his grasp and started toward the house.
How would I play this? Would I go along with Karen's deception and enjoy the role of the violated, disappointed sister, or would I spin on him and tell him the whole truth and watch him shrink even more before my very eyes? How had Karen behaved after she saw me in the doorway? Did she cry and pretend they had hurt me by keeping her secret?
"Wait, Zipporah, please," he begged. I kept walking. "She's your best friend," he added in desperation. I stopped and turned back to him.
"So? How does that make it any better, Jesse?" "Look," he said, walking slowly to me, "I know it wasn't nice for you to see that, but I've had a crush on Karen for a long time. I was writing to her from college. She never told you?"
"No," I said. "You were writing to her?"
Never once had he written to me.